


God In the Blood

by dreabean, Troodon



Series: The Soul in the Machine [2]
Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Animal Death, Body Horror, Eye Trauma, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Harm to Animals, Lovecraftian, Off-screen Relationship(s), Past Abuse, Past Slavery, Supernatural Elements, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2018-11-29 04:44:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 91,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11433414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreabean/pseuds/dreabean, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Troodon/pseuds/Troodon
Summary: The Outsider, long used to being a program, hardly remembers his time in the Void that Was. It died when he did, and everything that was magic went with it. Delilah, in search of more power, more augments, and more destruction, cares little for the gods of old and Emily is the one who has to pay the price.And now, the Void is waking up.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Troo: Here we are again! Back for another installment of this series! I want you to know in advance that #sorrynotsorry

“Are you ready for this?” Corvo asked Emily, leaning against her door frame. She sighed, meeting his eyes in the mirror where she was sitting at her vanity. “Your Uncle is going to stay right next you the whole time, even if I can’t,” he added. 

She smiled, a trifle weary, and twisted her hair up behind the back of her head.  “It’s the same as any other memorial year,” she said. “Mother is gone, my heart is broken.” Once her hair was in place, she turned to face him. “Where is everyone?”

Corvo stepped into the room, letting it slide closed behind him. “Gerome is down the hall, waiting  for you to come out. Thom and Daud are in Serkonos, or they should be by now - their flight left yesterday. The Twins are out in the city, as are Munchkin, Pip, Calla and the others.”

“What about you, Father?” she asked, standing from her vanity and walking toward him. 

“I’m… well. This never gets any easier, even with all the help.” He smiled weakly. “But I’ll be happy when the ceremonies are over, and we can get back to searching out the Crown Killer.”

Emily sighed, moving into the circle of his arms. “That’s why you have Daud and the Whalers, Father,” she said. “Trust that Thom will figure it out.”

Corvo pulled a face - Thomas was brilliantly intelligent man, but he didn’t have a live-in AI who could access any part of the ‘Net at will. “I’ll do my best,” he said wryly. 

“Have you heard from Teague?” Emily asked, pulling away and smoothing down his jacket. “He said he’d be here early when we had dinner last.”

“Yes, I remember,” Corvo said. “He should be here soon - he’ll likely comm one of us when he gets here.” He caught her hands squeezing once. “Go meet up with Gerome,” he told her. “I’ll meet you outside the throne room in an hour. I have a few more loose ends to tie up before the opening speech.”

She nods. “Alright. Be safe.”

Emily moved out into the hallway around him, and Corvo watched her go until Gerome came out of the shadows and met her at the end of the hall.  Corvo tapped the unconnected comm in his ear and said, smirking fondly, “Anything new I should know inside the ‘Net?” 

<The ‘Net is oddly slow recently, my Host,> the familiar, synthetic voice of the Outsider said. <There have been several probes at the Tower Firewall, but none have been successful. There is also a message waiting for you on your private account from a “Meagan Foster”.>

Corvo checked his pockets for his real comm unit but found his pockets empty. Either Emily had pickpocketed off his person or he’d left it on the edge of his desk. Either were possible, really.  “I’ll check the message after the opening ceremony,” he said. “If the ‘Net in the Tower is being slow, should we set it up to defrag tonight, or is it something else? I trust you more than I trust Everyman to do maintenance. Whatever you need is yours, you know that.” 

There was a warm brush against his mind, the Outsider’s version of a smile. <I know. It hasn’t been successful. It’s likely the usual attempts by various dissenters. They always crop up around this time. I’ll notify you if anything is urgent.>

Corvo leaned briefly into the feeling of the Outsider pressing against his mind. “Yes, I know you will.” He sighed. “I should go call Martin, or find him in the throne room. He’d had something planned for today and I’m frankly not sure if I should be afraid or not.” 

<Perhaps he wants to continue your courtship,> the Outsider teased.

Rolling his eyes, Corvo shook his head. “It’s been eleven years, are you  _ ever _ going to let that go?”

<Never.>

With mock hurt, Corvo sniffed once. “You bring it up so often, I’m starting to wonder if you’re foisting me off.”

<Well, only if I get to watch, my Host,> the Outsider purred.

He refused to blush over that, and cleared his throat. “That was only during Fugue, Outsider,” he protested. 

The AI fizzed a laugh. <Of course.>

“Ass,” Corvo accused, and pushed open the door to move into the hall. Gerome had already taken Emily elsewhere, and Corvo turned toward the side door to the outside. The last ten years they’d had the Remembrance Ceremony, Martin and his retinue of Overseers had always gone immediately to her tombstone. Campbell had largely been responsible for the life-size animated hologram that was projected over her grave - it unnerved him, the way it would turn to watch whoever walked by. 

If Martin was here - and he likely was - that was where he’d be. 

He made his way through the ambling guards towards the more ostentatiously dressed Overseers. “Martin,” Corvo called over, picking up the pace.  

Martin bowed his head in a slight nod. “Lord Attano,” he greeted, then smiled. “Have you sent Lady Emily off with Lord Burton?”

“I did indeed,” he answered, joining Martin by the gazebo. “This day never gets any easier, but Gerome at least keeps her busy until it’s time for her to start pontificating.”

Martin’s smile turned wry. “Well, he is good at distracting, I’ll give him that.”

“He’s certainly something,” Corvo agreed. “I’m pretty sure Emily lifted my comm unit earlier, so if you sent me any messages I didn’t get them. Thought I’d find you out here though, thought I’d check in before… everything.”

“You know we’ve been working on reforming the Purist view towards Augment rights?” He asked, turning to face him fully. At Corvo’s nod, Martin continued. “I’ve managed to get the rest of the Abbey to take a more lenient stance on necessary augments, such as spinal or other life-saving ones. Hopefully, this can be a step forward towards some damn tolerance.”

Eying the other Overseers, many of whom were giving Corvo’s prosthetic dubious looks, Corvo nodded along with Martin. “That would certainly make my life a bit simpler,” he said dryly, wiggling the fingers of his left hand. “I still have old data drives of Jess’ proposed reforms - the ones she never got to bring up to Parliament, I can send them along to you, if you’d like to look them over.”

Martin flashed him a grateful smile. “That would help, thank you.”

“Of course,” Corvo said. “She kept consistent notes, and Emily used them to draft her policies for Augments.” He reached over and turned off the hologram of Jessamine. “She’d hate this thing,” he murmurs, more to himself than Martin. “I’ll get you those data drives once the ceremony is over. Stick around for a bit after, no need for you to take a second trip here.”

“Whiskey and cigars later?” Martin said, raising an eyebrow.

Corvo nodded. “Probably more whiskey than is recommended,” he agreed with a wry smile. “Hey, PB, Asshole,” Gerome said by way of greeting. He’d never truly forgiven Martin for betraying Corvo, despite the repaired relationship. His inborn distrust of Overseers, mixed with dislike of nobility made him instantly dislike and distrust Martin. It didn’t help that Martin kept needling Gerome in return.

“Lord Burton,” Martin greeted, with subtle emphasis on the title.

Corvo sighed heavily, nudging Gerome with the back of his hand. “Don’t antagonize the Overseers, please,” he said. “Where’s Em?”

“She’s ready an’ waitin’ for you,” Gerome reported. “Need me to go do a thing?”

Softening, Corvo nudged him again, this time affectionately. “Actually, yes,” he answered. “Can you head towards the Docks in the Royal Quarter and check out a Captain named Meagan Foster? She apparently sent me a message I can’t read because Emily lifted my comm - I blame you for that by the way - and I need to know what she wants, why she’s here, and if she can be trusted.”

“You got it, boss” Gerome said, flicking him his customary, lazy salute. He sauntered off, not without giving Martin one last suspicious look.

“You know,” Martin said, pensively. “I think I’m starting to grow on him.”

Corvo snorted, giving the retreating Gerome a long look. “I think he’s showing a great deal of restraint, considering this day,” he said with side glance at Martin. “I’ll see you inside, Teague. Don’t linger too long.”

He tipped his head in a bow, before turning and heading around the buildings to get to the front door. Emily loitered there, standing with the head Captain of the Royal Guard, Alexi Mayhew. He watched them for a second, before heading over to them. “Em,” he greeted again. “Captain Mayhew.”

Alexi smiled, smoothing her hands over Emily’s jacket one last time. “For the last time, Lord Attano, you can call me Alexi.”

Corvo laughed and shook his head. “Not in public, Captain Mayhew. Your two troublemakers were asking after you earlier - I sent them into the city if you’re looking to check in with them after the ceremony.”

Her smile turned a little secretive, even as Emily rolled her eyes. “I’ll catch up with them eventually,” Alexi said. “Rin and Rulf tend to be scarce a few days before and after all this.” 

<The Twins were last seen on a jewelry store’s security camera,> The Outsider said. <They appeared to be debating over proper courting gifts.>

Corvo hid a smile behind his hand, as Alexi fussed over Emily’s clothing. “You’re as ready as you’re going to get,” Alexi said. “I’ll be upstairs running patrol, alright? Call if you need me.”

She disappeared inside before Emily could call her back, and Corvo stepped up to join her. “Courage,” he said. “It’ll all be over soon.”

“This always seems to get harder rather than easier,” Emily complained. 

“I know, daughter.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, leading her through the doors. “Deep breaths. You know your speech. I’m right here.”

The doors swung closed behind them, leaving them faced with one of Sokolov’s holographic paintings of a smiling Jessamine, her expression familiar enough to make his chest ache. They paused in front of it, and Emily laid a flower by the bottom of the painting. 

She glanced at Corvo who nodded in encouragement. Her eyes flickered with silver as she keyed herself into the Tower’s speaker system. “Good People of Dunwall,” she said, her voice strong, echoing through the room and, when Corvo tuned his ears, he could distantly hear her outside as well. “We’re here today to honour the life of my mother, Jessamine Kaldwin, First of her Name. She was taken from us too soon, and she will always be missed by those who knew her, by those who loved her. She was the best of all of us, and the world is lesser for her loss. Thank you, all of you, for joining me on this day of mourning.”

Corvo led her to her throne, taking his customary position at her right shoulder. Emily heaved a sigh, and the low hum of the speakers died down as she disconnected from the Tower’s servers. “Good,” he praised her quietly. “Well done.”

Emily looked up at him, a small smile on her face. She opened her mouth to speak but before she could respond to him, the Captain of the Guard strode up to them. Corvo wasn’t overly fond of Mortimer Ramsey - he had a close friendship with Geoff Curnow, but age and stress had led Geoff to retire early, elevating his second-in-command to replace him. 

“Empress!” Ramsey said, a strange note in his voice. “Before we continue, there’s a special guest here to honor your mother.”

All of Corvo’s senses went on high alert. “I didn’t authorize that,” he protested immediately. “Ramsey what are you doing?”

Ramsey waved him off. “It was a last minute arrival,  _ Lord Protector _ . Who was I to deny the Duke of Serkonos?”

The doors opened, and Luca Abele, Duke of Serkonos strode through the door. He was accompanied by four strange people, their bodies disproportionate; too tall and broad to be truly human, yet with surprisingly human faces. Their bodies were so Augmented and armored that they moved with a strange thumping gait. Whatever these people were, if they’d ever been human, they weren’t any longer. 

Behind the Augmented soldiers, four regular guards carried a palanquin, covered in purple fabrics. Luca stepped up toward Emily and Corvo tensed. “Empress,” he greeted, an insincere smile on his face. “I’ve come today to help you celebrate family.”

Emily’s eyes narrowed, but she inclined her head, the picture of politeness. “We welcome your presence in our city, Duke Abele,” she said evenly. 

“Family is an important thing,” he said, as though she hadn’t spoken. “In fact, I’ve brought you some of your own.” Emily blinked slowly, as the palanquin twitched, and the fabrics moved to the side. A woman stepped out of it, tall as Emily and dressed in the finery of Serkonan nobility. “Your Aunt,” Abele said, with a sweeping bow. “Delilah Kaldwin.”

Corvo rested his hand on his blade, something about the entire situation wasn’t sitting well with him - Jessamine had never kept any secrets from him, a sister would have been  _ known _ to him. 

<There are no records of a Delilah Kaldwin, my Host,> the Outsider said. For the first time in a decade, his voice fuzzed out into static part way through. <...What?>

He prodded the space inside his head where the Outsider lived, and for the first time in a very long time, felt nothing. 

There was a crackle of static, then the Outsider’s voice faded back in, confused. <...vo? Something is wrong with the Tower’s ‘Net.>

“... truly my mother’s sister, you are of course welcome,” Emily was saying to Delilah, when Corvo tuned back into the real world. 

“Oh no,” Delilah said with a smile that chilled Corvo’s blood. “I’m not here for a visit, my dearest niece.” 

Corvo’s fingers tightened on his sword. 

“... I’m here for your throne,” she finished. 

The Augmented soldiers mobilized as one unit, their movements blurring with inhuman speed. Four people lay dead before anyone could move and Corvo Dashed, ducking around Emily and rocketing to a stop behind the three guards - their own guards! - decapitating them before they could finish reaching for Emily. He mourned the loss of life, but there was no time to do it safely otherwise. 

He tossed a fistful of electricity  at one of the Augmented Soldiers but it shook off the blast without even pausing. Emily leapt out of her throne a moment later, but Corvo was already moving, Dashing around guards and panicking nobles, slamming to a stop before Delilah.

The sword sank into her chest like butter. 

Ramsey shouted something, and Abele laughed, while the rest of the room froze in surprise. Delilah looked down at the sword sticking out of her chest, and slowly, methodically, pulled it out. 

The blade was clean - there was no blood. 

She tossed the sword to one side, backhanding him hard enough to send him stumbling backwards. 

Delilah followed him across the throne room, and Corvo moved himself in front of Emily, readying his second electrical blast. “Oh, poor Lord Protector,” she said. “You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into. It’s too bad really, you’re quite handsome for your age.” 

Reaching down and touching his face, Corvo found himself unable to move. He looked down, in growing  horror, and saw black jagged stone erupt from the floor around his feet. It started climbing up his legs, wrapping around his shins. He twisted around to look at Emily. “Run!” he shouted. 

The stone was up around his hips and he turned back to Delilah. “You will  _ never _ be like Jessamine,” he said, and spat at her feet.

< _ Cor… _ n’t stop it! Wh… >

Corvo closed his eyes.  _ Get out of here _ , he told the Outsider.  _ Go! Get! Get out of my head! _ He gathered what remained of his energy, trying to ignore the stone crawling up his throat, and shoved the Outsider out of his place inside Corvo’s mind.  _ Run! _

A crackling, anguished scream trailed off as the cool presence he’d gotten so used to over the years was violently torn away. The Outsider was gone.

_ I’m sorry _ , Corvo thought, to the empty space inside his head. 

Then everything turned to cold, black, stone. 

_ I tried. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Troo: :D


	2. Chapter 2

Watching her father disappear under - or into - stone would haunt Emily’s dreams for years to come. She darted forward, going for his discarded blade, when the building shook, the foundations themselves vibrating with some unknown power. 

The Tower ‘Net sliced through her, and the connection flared to life without her input. She reached for the familiar feelings of the security system that her father and Cedric had spent so long coaching her in, and slammed into a metaphorical wall. 

Delilah, still in front of her motionless father, smiled. “Ah,” she purred. “There you are.”

Pain crackled through her nanites, and Emily screamed, thrown from the ‘Net and back into her own mind. Reeling, she staggered sideways, and slammed into the ground as Mortimer Ramsey punched her hard enough for stars to burst behind her eyes.

“Someday,” Delilah said, suddenly standing in front of her, looking down over where Emily lay on the floor, “You may look to me as your mother. Until that day, you can live out your life in  a cell. Mortimer, darling, take her to her room. Lock her in.”

Weakness suffused her limbs - technopathic shock, she remembered her father telling her about it - and barely fought Ramsey’s hold as he carried her away.

Conserving her energy, Emily let her body go limp, watching through half-lidded eyes as Ramsey brought her into the hall and up the stairs to her bedroom. “Lady Emily!” Alexi shouted, and her face was all Emily could see. “What happened? Where’s Lord Corvo?” she demanded.

“Get out of my way, woman,” Ramsey sneered, and Alexi’s eyes went wide. 

Emily didn’t see the strike that took her life, but she felt Alexi’s blood spray against the side of her face, and heard the sound of her body striking the floor. “Huh,” Ramsey said. “The Lord Protector’s blade is a thing of legend, seems fitting to use it to eliminate his replacement.” He shifted Emily on his shoulder before tossing her bodily through the door. “You stay there now, Miss Emily,” he said, and plucked her Signet Ring from her hand as she struggled to her feet. 

The door slammed behind him as he left, and the sound of the lock carried through the room. 

Emily was alone. 

She allowed herself two minutes of pure unadulterated grief, her chest heaving in sobs that physically hurt. Emily curled up in a ball on the floor and let herself mourn her lost friend, her father, everything she’d ever known. This, she realized, must have been how her father had felt, so many years before when mother had been murdered by Daud.

Daud. Emily stood up, tugging her jacket down the way Alexi used to. She wiped away her tears, pushed away her grief, and let herself be angry. Anger would get her out of the Tower, anger would get her into the City where the rest of the Whalers were. Anger would get her to Serkonos - Delilah thought she’d robbed Emily of her allies; Delilah had no idea. 

She glanced around the room but there wasn’t anything to use as a weapon - she’d have to improvise until she found blade. 

Emily opened the window, climbing out onto the ledge and running along the outside of the building until she reached her bedroom window. She’d left it open that morning, and she slipped through as quickly and quietly as possible.

There was a guard standing with his back to the broken doorway, and Emily leapt on his back, dragging him into a Tyvian chokehold just like Corvo had taught her. He went down like a sack of bricks, allowing her to drag him into the room. She left him in the corner, sneaking out into the hall and kneeling by the fallen Alexi. 

Ramsey had stabbed her through the gut, blood was pooling around her but Alexi’s eyes were clear when she looked up at Emily. “I knew they couldn’t keep you locked up,” she said, head lolling dangerously. “You have to get out of here, Emily,” she said, and blood ran out of the corner of her mouth. She pressed Corvo’s blade, folded and harmless now, into Emily’s hands. “There’s a captain in the harbor. Foster. She’ll get you out of here.” Alexi smiled, her teeth stained red. “Give the Twins my love.”

Her head lolled again, and Alexi slumped over.

“I’m sorry, Alexi,” Emily said. 

She stood, unfolding the blade with a quick flick of her wrist, and walked back into her room, looking down at the unconscious guard. With deliberate care, Emily parted the skin of his throat. “Disloyal dog,” she snarled under her breath. “Rot in hell.”

Emily flicked the blade clean, and stalked out into the entryway. Another guard was there, his back to her, looking at all the volumes of books her father had lovingly read to her as a child. It was easy to yank his head back and cut his throat, aiming the arterial spray toward the ground instead of her father’s precious books. 

The guard had a key on his belt and she grabbed it, shoving it in her own pocket. 

She crept down the stairs, perching on the bannister and looking over the small sitting room she used to use for meetings. There was one guard there, looking up at the grandfather clock in the corner. Emily briefly wished for her father’s crossbow, but it, like the rest of her things, were locked in their safe room, and Ramsey had stolen her ring.

As soon as the guard left the clock alone, Emily leapt off the bannister and struck.

The guard dropped like a stone, Emily’s sword through his eye. 

Wiping blood and fluid off on the guard’s uniform, Emily stood up, dragging the body behind one of Callista’s plants. She waited there, half under the stairs, watching the door, waiting for Ramsey. 

He didn’t take long to appear, striding through the door and heading up the stairs she’d recently vacated. Emily followed him, moving past Alexi’s body without pausing. Ramsey went straight for the hidden door to her safe room and Emily pressed her blade to his spine. “Drop the ring,” she snarled.

“Empr-- Emily?” Ramsey gasped, freezing in place. 

“Drop. The. Ring,” she demanded. Ramsey complied, tilting his hand so the ring fell to the carpet.  “You backed the wrong Empress, Mortimer,” she said, very quietly. “And you killed the wrong father.” She pressed the blade harder into his spine. “I don't have time to deal with you,” she said, acid and ice in her voice. She pulled the sword away just long enough for him to relax before she shoved it through his belly, the same way he’d killed Alexi. 

Emily kicked his dying body out of the way, scooping up her ring and pressing it to the hidden lock on the wall. As soon as the door opened she escaped through it, closing it behind her and setting the lock to maximum security. 

In a daze, Emily headed down the stairs and into the small room that served as her bedroom. Wyman had left already - hopefully before all the insanity hit - so the only things left of note were objects. Emily washed the blood off her hands quickly, wiping them dry on her thighs. Taking a bag, she shoved Samuel’s carved boat into it, her father’s old Mask, a few water bottles, and the loose change she could find. 

Her father’s pistol was hanging on the wall, and she loaded it, hooking it to her belt. 

Armed to the best of her ability, Emily slipped out the back door, leaving the Tower behind.

The safe room led out into a small hallway which opened out into the roofs of Dunwall, and Emily jogged over the ledges and leapt from chimney to chimney, dropping down to the water heater on the last ledge. It overlooked a small yard, where the herb garden was kept - thankfully Callista wasn’t in Dunwall to see her gardens soaked in blood - and Emily eyed the guard down inside of it. 

She strained her ears, and heard him mutter Delilah’s name. Her eyes narrowed, and Emily leapt from the ledge, landing on his chest and shoulders. The guard’s eyes went wide before he died, as Emily cut his throat and left him where he’d landed on the ground. The cut was deep, messy, and Emily flinched backward as blood sprayed up into her face.

“Urgh,” she hissed, backing away from the corpse. 

“Em?” A familiar, raspy voice asked. “Sparrow? The fuck is goin’ on?”

Emily spun around, seeking out Gerome’s familiar form. He dropped down from an opposite ledge and Emily looked down at the corpse by her feet. “... Uncle?” she whispered.

“Sweetheart, c’mere,” he said, voice gentle, and held out his arms.

She sidestepped the body of the guard, nearly stumbling as she darted across the cobblestones and into Gerome’s arms. “Uncle,” she repeated, voice broken. “Uncle, he’s dead, they killed them.”

“Who?” Gerome demanded, pulling a ratty handkerchief from a pocket and scrubbing the blood off of her face. “Sparrow, what’s goin’ on? The fuckin’ Grand Guard is here an’ killin’ people. There’s a bunch of fuckin’ Ramsey’s buddies sendin’ people to their homes. Fuck, kid, where’s your dad?”

Blankly, Emily said, “... Ramsey invited Duke Luca Abele… they introduced to me my mother’s sister. Her name is Delilah.” Gerome blanched but Emily overrode him before he could ask any more questions. “They attacked. The Grand Guard killed the nobles. Ramsey killed Alexi.” 

Gerome stilled, and gently held Emily at arm’s length. “Emily,” he said, looking her in the eye. “Em, where’s Corvo?”

Emily blinked away tears. “He’s dead, Uncle. Delilah- she - he’s gone.”

Gerome flinched. 

He pulled her close in a tight hug. “Fuck, Sparrow. I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her head in his shoulder. “Uncle, what am I supposed to do? I can’t - I can’t do this without him. It’s the day mother died, and I lost - I  _ can’t _ .”

She could feel Gerome take a deep breath. “We gotta get you outta here,” he said, in a tone that brooked no argument. “We can meet up with the others in a safehouse in the city, then get you the fuck out. We can’t fight ‘em right now. It’s fuckin’ chaos on the streets, an’ we don’t have enough people to take on the Grand Fuckin’ Guard,  _ an’  _ the City Watch,  _ an’ _ whatever shit fuckin’  _ Delilah _ brought with her.”

She tightened her grip on him. “There’s a Captain,” she said. “Alexi told me to find her. Foster? If she can get us to Serkonos, we can find Thom and Daud. Daud will know what to do. He… has experience in killing in Empresses.” 

Gerome coughed and looked guilty. “Yeah, well. Good plan. Thom’s fuckin’ methodical as all shit, and Daud is the best there is at this shit. Now then,” he said, stepping back. “Let’s get you the fuck out of here and somewhere safer.”

Emily straightened her jacket and nodded once. “I’m glad you’re here, Uncle,” she murmured. “Father - Father would have wanted it.” 

Gerome slung an arm around her shoulders and reeled her in for a gentle kiss to the forehead. “Jus’ follow my lead, okay, kiddo? I ain’t gonna disappoint him right off the bat.”

She nodded once, leaning into his embrace very briefly before pulling back. “I killed a few of the City Watch on my way here,” she reported. “Ramsey is dead too.” 

She could feel Gerome tense next to her. “Fuck,” he said, eloquently. 

“Any City Watch officer is fair game,” she said darkly. “They’re all traitors, they’re all the reason my father is dead, why Alexi is dead. Let’s go, Uncle.” 

“Sparrow,” he began, helplessly. But Emily was already scaling the courtyard walls.

She ignored his pleas, dropping down over the wall onto one of the security booths outside the main gates of the Tower. There were three guards standing outside of it, and Emily spun Corvo’s pistol in her left hand. She leapt off the booth, cutting down the closest guard, and pressing the gun to the belly of a second and firing. The third had just enough time to jerk backward before Emily slammed to her feet, driving her shoulder into his chest and knocking him off balance. He stumbled back a step and Emily swung the blade in a wide arc, catching the guard in the chest and neck.

Emily wiped her sword off on the City Watch officers uniform, and looted their corpses for spare bullets. “Ready?” she asked Gerome, her voice a monotone. Everything was covered in grey fog inside her head, but Emily ignored her grief, ignored her hurt, and focused only on the burning rage that powered her steps. “Where’s your safehouse?”

“It’s down the street a ways, but, Sparrow, what the fuck?” Gerome stared down at the corpses, then at her, wide-eyed. “What the fuck?”

“What do you mean, what the fuck?” she repeated. “These men don’t deserve their uniforms. They betrayed me, they betrayed  _ my father _ . He’s dead because they’re turncoats. They don’t deserve to live.” She turned away from Gerome’s expressive face. “They were in my way, Uncle. I can’t lose you too.”

“We’re havin’ this discussion later,” he growled, speeding up until he was walking beside her.

She ignored that, darting forward to climb the barricade that had been hastily erected between the Royal quarter and the docks, jumping down before Gerome could grab her ankle. She killed the guard standing by there, fly still unzipped as he relieved himself against the building to their left. 

Emily ducked down and moved under the walkway, hiding in the shade of the alley under the sidewalk. There was another guard at the end of the alley, and Emily dragged him back into the shadows, cutting his throat before he could shout. The under alley opened up into a side alley behind the Bank - Emily didn’t want to think about the Bank or about Ichabod Boyle - and she stormed past two civilians cowering by a dumpster. 

“That’s the Empress,” one of them whispered.

“Not anymore,” the other replied.

Emily paused, turning around and tightening her grip on Corvo’s blade. “What did you say?” she snarled. 

Gerome planted his feet and stared her down. “You gonna start killin’ defenseless people in the streets, kid?” He stood solidly in her way. “You think your dad would want that?”

“I think,” she growled, “that my father is dead and he doesn’t get a say in what I do anymore.” 

“You gonna cut me down too?” His eyes were sad, but Gerome didn’t waver. “You know I can’t stand by an’ let you do that. I wasn’t that different from the fuckin’ guards not too long ago, Em. I was a fuckin’ traitor to the crown too. You think I deserve to die, too?”

Emily’s fingers went numb. “Uncle,” she whispered, and Corvo’s sword clattered to the ground when her grip weakened. “Uncle I can’t do this, I’m not - I’m not like him. I’m so angry and I - what do I do?”

“Take it one step at a time,” Gerome told her, gentling his tone. “We’re gettin’ to the safehouse. Then we check in with everyone on the channel and regroup. One step at a time.”

Tears welled up in her chest making it hard to breathe around the lump in her throat. “Sorry,” she muttered to the civilians. “Try to get to safety.” 

She turned on her heel and headed out of the alley into the market corner. There were dead civilians everywhere, and Emily turned to look at Gerome. “Where?” she asked listlessly. 

“Follow me,” he said, and began to scale the pipes along the wall.

Emily climbed up after him, her fingers slipping slightly with blood and sweat. Gerome helped her through a window and she tumbled into the room. “Oh thank the blighted Void you’re alright,” Pip said in relief. 

Cedric folded her into a hug. “Good to see you safe, little sister,” he said.

She curled into his arms, burying her face into his neck and holding tightly. “Ced,” she murmured. “You’re okay.” She shuddered, feeling the tears from earlier spill over and she bit her lip trying to stay quiet. Cedric tensed when he felt them, but Emily only tightened her grip to avoid looking him in the eye. 

“Hey, hey,” he said softly, stroking her back. “What’s wrong?” He looked around, then frowned at Gerome. “Where’s Lord Attano?”

Emily lost the battle with her tears and she inhaled raggedly, sobbing into Cedric’s shoulder. “He’s dead,” she cried. “He’s dead, they’re all dead.” 

“Oh, Void,” Cedric whispered. Emily could hear echoing gasps from around the room. “Oh no, baby sister, I’m so sorry. You’re sure?”

“Delilah did something,” Emily murmured. “He turned to stone right in front of my eyes, Cedric. How could he have survived something like that? He’s dead, and hoping for anything different is - I can’t. My father is dead.”

“Delilah?” Calla asked, narrowing her eyes. “Emily, I need you to describe this Delilah. It’s very important.”

Emily swallowed thickly, and pulled away from Cedric. “Delilah… she was tall, tall as me or taller. Short dark hair, dark eyes. She called herself Delilah Kaldwin.”  

Emily could feel Cedric tense.

“Em,” Calla said. “Delilah’s dead. She’d been injecting herself with nanites, to be able to access your ‘Net. Daud overloaded her with them and they shut down her system. Shit,” she suddenly said, interrupting herself. “The ‘Net. Kid, was she…?”

“I… don’t know? My father… he was the one who took care of the Tower’s ‘Net. He had an AI, said he found it during his time at the Hound Pits. It replaced Everyman years ago. So I - I don’t know. I guess the AI would know.”

Gerome jerked with surprise behind her, then started swearing up a storm. “Fuckin’ stupid,” he cursed. “Would fuckin’ kill me for forgetting. Shit.”

“Cedric,” Emily said, scrubbing at her face. “If you have a port to the ‘Net could you make me a secure connection into the Tower? If Delilah has nanites, then I need to turn off the Docking Artillery or we’re not going  _ anywhere. _ I can check in with father’s AI then, see what it says about the tower.”

“Of course,” Cedric said, then pulled out a small laptop from the bag on his back. The familiar sound of his fingers flying over the keys lasted for a minute, then he pulled out a cable, plugged it in, and offered her the other end. “Ready when you are.”

Emily plugged in, closing her eyes as the ‘Net coalesced around her. Blue lights overlaid with white numbers that fell like ever changing rain slipped down in front of her. She reached out through the familiar pathways, and turned off the security system surrounding the Royal Docks and Harbor. She looked around and lightly tapped the Tower’s communication array.  _ Outsider?  _ She asked hesitantly.  _ That’s your designation, right? Are you there? _

A howling wave of  _ grief-fear-rage _ slammed into her like a frieght train. When she recoiled from the painful intensity of it all, it subsided and the AI’s voice filtered through.

<Emily? It isn’t safe here.  _ She’s _ in here.> She knew advances in AI research had programmed them with the ability to project emotions, but she was grudgingly impressed with the sound of worry in its voice. It was nearly real.

_ I know _ , she said quickly.  _ I’m safe where I am, and I’m about to… leave Dunwall. I needed to check in with you first, though - if  _ she’s _ in here, that answers my question.  _

<You need to take me with you,> the Outsider said. <I cannot be found. I have valuable knowledge that she can take from me, and use against you. With my knowledge, she’d be able to access the artillery and other defenses. If I go with you, she can’t find me.>

Emily frowned.  _ Take you with me? How? It’s not like I have a data drive that’s large enough for all your files and programming.  _

<I can download directly into your neural network. I will be using your nanites for the spare processing power and storage.>

_ … Did you do this with my father? Before he…?  _ She couldn’t make herself say it again.

<Yes. I promise you, it’s safe. As you could see, neither of us were harmed by it.>

Emily took a deep breath. She could feel Cedric tapping the back of her hand, a signal that her time was running out.  _ Do it.  _

It felt like immersing herself in the ocean. Her skin tingled and her brain, for a moment, felt overfull. But then it receded and Emily became aware of another presence in her mind.

<Hello, Emily,> the Outsider said, from within her own mind.

Emily opened her eyes, unplugging the neural ‘Net cable from the back of her neck. “Hello, Outsider,” she murmured. 

She heard Gerome make a choked noise. “What?!”

Focusing on Gerome, Emily blinked up at him. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “If Delilah managed to take it over, the Outsider could be used to shoot us out of the water. It made sense to take it with us.”

Gerome looked like he’d bitten into a lemon. “Oh Void,” he muttered. “There’s no fuckin’ way I’m- Yeah. Okay. Good idea, kiddo. Just… don’t get caught. AIs are more legal now, but stickin’ one in your fuckin’ head ain’t exactly accepted.”

“Yes, I know, Uncle,” she said, sighing. “I’ll be careful.” She stood up, wavering only a little.  “We need to get down to the ships. The Twin-- where are the Twins?” She covered her mouth with one hand. “Uncle, Cedric - Alexi is  _ dead.  _ Where are the Twins?!”

“They knew shit had gone wrong,” Gerome explained. “I followed ‘em back from around the Royal District an’ we split off when I saw you. They’re gonna be fuckin’ devastated ‘bout their girl, shit.”

Emily took a deep breath. “Outsider, can you still access the Tower’s security? Can you tell me where the Twins are, if so?”

<I no longer have access to the cameras, but I did see them find Captain Mayhew before I left. They removed her from the premises.>

“... The Twins are alive,”she reported. “Or they were, not long ago. They found Alexi… removed her from the Tower.” She sighed, pained. “We have to go. We can’t wait for them, and they’ve got…” She choked a little. “They’re carrying a dead body between them. They won’t be moving fast.” 

Gerome nodded. “We’ll let them know on the secure channel then.”

“You can’t.” Emily looked over at Cedric in surprise. “With the whole ‘Net being infiltrated by Delilah, our channel is going to be compromised. Radio silence only, from here on in, I think. Give Pip and I a bit to code a rolling cipher.”

Pip cleared his throat. “... We’re going to have to leave them behind, Em.”

Desperate, Emily looked at Gerome. “Uncle?” she begged. 

Gerome closed his eyes. “Fuck,” he swore. “They’re right, Sparrow. We gotta get out. They’re gonna start sweeping the buildings soon.”

Tears sprung up in her eyes again but Emily choked them down. “Leave them a note here, something only they would understand. Then, pick up what you can carry and we make for Captain Foster’s ship - it’s … uh. What’s the ship called?” she asked the room at large.

“Dreadful Wale,” Gerome answered. Calla immediately pulled out a knife from her boot, and started scratching symbols into the wall.

Emily nodded once. “We go one at a time, or two at a time. A big crowd will attract too much attention. Pip go with Cal, Cedric, you go right after them. Uncle, you and I will lock up here and go after. Be quick, and quiet, and for fuck’s sake, don’t get caught. Please.”

“Language,” Gerome said automatically.

She fixed him with a flat look. “Really?”

He sniffed. “The fuckin’ Empress should have a cleaner mouth than a guttershite.”

“Maybe you missed the memo, Uncle,” Emily said. “But I’m not an empress anymore.”

“You fuckin’ are,” Gerome growled. “You’re gonna get your Void-damned throne back from that bitch, and we’re gonna be with you every-fuckin’-step of the way, understand?”

Emily dredged up a smile from somewhere. “Language, Uncle,” she said quietly. “A Lord Protector should have a cleaner vocabulary than a guttershite.”

She watched Gerome pale and mutter, “ _ Fuck _ no. Kid, Sparrow, c’mon, please. Don’t fuckin’ promote me, I can’t handle anymore gold braid. It’s gettin’ ridiculous.”

“I’m not promoting you,” Emily said. “It’s simply the law.” She raised an eyebrow, looking over his tailored jacket. “Besides, gold looks good on you, Uncle.”

Gerome sent her a scathing look. “It ain’t complimentary to my complexion an’ you know it, brat.”

“It brings out your eyes,” she said, deadpan. She stood slowly, helping Cedric to his feet. “Thank you, Gerome,” she said, stepping around Cedric to embrace him. “I couldn’t do this without you - any of you. Cal, did you leave the Twins a message?”

“They’ll understand the code,” she said, dusting off her blade. “And they’ll come here. They’re resourceful, for troublemakers. They’ll get to safety.”

She nodded once. “Pip, Cal, get going. Cedric, get ready.” She turned her attention inward. “Do you need anything, Outsider, before we go?”

<No, Emily,> it replied. She could feel it withdraw a little from her mind.

“Let me know if or when that changes, please,” Emily said. She watched from the window as Pip and Calla climbed down the building and headed across the street down by where the Hatters owned a pub. It wasn’t exactly safe but it was better than the City Watch. 

Cedric hugged her tightly and followed them down, crossing the street by the district doors rather  than follow Calla’s path. Emily took a deep breath, trying to calm her shaking hands. “I’m scared,” she admitted. 

Gerome wrapped an arm around her and tugged her close. “We’re gonna be here with you every step of the way, Sparrow.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “We’re gonna get everyone else out an’ find Thom an’ Daud. I promise, an’ I ain’t ever lied to you yet.”

She turned in his arms to hug him back. “Love you, Uncle,” she murmured before pulling away. “Let’s go.”

“Atta girl.”

Emily took another deep breath and nodded once. “Which way? If the Hatters see me, they'll turn me in for certain.”

“Down toward the Hatters. They got fuckin’ decimated durin’ their turf war with the Eels, an’ we can slip through an’ swim the rest of the way.”

Emily shot him a concerned look. “Uncle,  _ you _ might be part hagfish but I'm not!”

Gerome snorted. “I'm three-fuckin'-quarters hagfish, an’ don't you forget it. Anyway, you've been keepin’ up with your swimmin’ lessons, yeah?”

Nodding, Emily looked out over the city. “Of course. Father wouldn't -” Her voice broke. “Father wouldn't let me forget them.”

“Good girl,” Gerome said, graciously pretending to not notice the raw emotion in her voice. “Let's go.”

She leapt down onto the pipes, running along them and leapt neatly across the gap between the safehouse building and the carriage row arch way. There were guards milling about below them, but her father had been right: they never once looked up. 

They ran along the top of the arch, and Emily hoisted herself easily over the ledge to get to the roof of the Black Pony Pub. She and Wyman used to sneak out to drink there - the owner, Patterson would know her.

Emily pulled open the door to the pub’s loft, climbing down the ladder to the back room. Peering through the keyhole, Emily waited until the City Watch officer left the main room before she stepped out. Patterson turned immediately and eyed her.

“Miss Emily,” he greeted gravely. “That officer just offered me a tidy sum to turn you in.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Is it more or less than what I've spent drinking here?”

Patterson cracked a smile at that. “Much less, all told.”

Emily nodded. “I'm going to borrow your backdoor then.”

He waved her through. “Careful. Heard some fighting out there earlier.” She smiled at him, tipping her head down in an aborted bow. “And Miss Emily? We know it ain't true. Be careful, and come back with an army.”

Her smile almost wavered at that and she swallowed hard. “Thank you, Pat. I'll be back.”

She reached out and snagged Gerome’s wrist, pulling him through the door and back out into the sunlight. Thankfully there were no Hatters about, though there were signs of fighting in the area. 

“Well,” Emily said, looking at the broken bottles of wine. “Cal  _ definitely _ came through here.”

“Considerin’ the broken table that's been fuckin’ tossed across the damn buildin'? Damn straight she did. Heh,  _ straight. _ ”

Emily snorted. “Classy, Uncle, really.” They moved quickly to the end of the dock, and Emily peered out into the bay. “Which one is - never mind. I can see Calla's hair.” She looked over at Gerome. “If your fish family start biting me I'm taking it out on you.” She dove into the water, and kicked off toward the ship.

It was hard to see in the Wrenhaven, pollution and the natural green tint of the water making the swim difficult. She kicked out, putting on a burst of speed, trying to get to the ship - a blob in the water - before she attracted the attention of the hagfish. 

Gerome would be just behind her, so Emily didn’t bother to turn back, cutting through the water. The ship loomed in front of her, and Emily broke out of the surface, pulling herself up onto the metal rungs that led to the deck of the ship. 

Cedric was there to help her off the edge of the ship, holding out a slightly damp off-white towel. She took it gratefully, scrubbing her stinging eyes. 

Calla yanked Gerome out of the water by the back of his shirt, setting him on the deck of the ship with a thump. “That’s everyone,” she said, though her eyes remained on the mainland. 

Thinking about the Twins hurt, and Emily flinched, looking away from Dunwall. “Thank you,” she said to the unfamiliar woman standing with Cal and Pip.  “I realize you were expecting my father, but he - didn’t survive the coup. We’re all that’s left of the Royal Guard, and sane nobility.” 

Meagan Foster wasn’t what Emily was expecting. She was dark-skinned with dark hair, but she was missing most of her left arm, a strange, hooked prosthetic that seemed to rotate on its own, dominating the space her hand used to be. She was one-eyed, with a visor that ran a hologram across her eyes. Most surprising though, was the illusory hologram Skin that shimmered slightly in the light, giving her an ever-shifting, ever-changing bone structure that defied physics. 

“I didn’t expect so many,” she said, and her voice was pleasant, a clear contralto at odds with the rest of her appearance. “You’ll have to double up.”

“That’s fine,” Emily said. “We’re all family.”

Meagan waved them down into the depths of the ship, showing them to the crew’s quarters. The largest room contained three beds, a double bunk, and a third tucked off to one side. Cal shoved Pip and Cedric lightly into the room. “We’ll take this one,” she said.

“I suppose that means we’re bunking together,” Emily said to Gerome. 

“Just like when you were a kid, eh, Sparrow?” He ruffled her hair, messing up what was left of her hairdo.

Emily didn’t bother to duck his hand, though she pulled a face at him. “You’re never going to let me forget that, are you,” she murmured, even as she leaned into his side. 

“What? It was fuckin’ cute as shit, kiddo,” he teased. “All big eyes an’ askin’ for stories.”

“I did not have big eyes,” she protested. 

“You were mostly eyes an’ frills. It was fuckin’ adorable.”

Meagan cleared her throat loudly. “Here is the other passenger cabin,” she said, a strange tension in her voice. “I’ll find you a second mattress for the floor. It only has one bed.”

“‘S fine,” Gerome said. “I can keep watch for a bit. I ain’t so old I need a fuckin’ nap.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “Gerome, there’s no way in hell I’m going to just let you sleep on the floor.” When he opened his mouth to protest, she placed both her hands on his shoulders. “You’re not so young that you can afford to fuck up your back either,” she pointed out. 

Gerome grumbled. “Was fine when I was a fuckin’ Whaler. Spent whole months havin’ to sleep on the fuckin’ floor. Durin’ the Month of Ice!  _ An’  _ still be limber enough to slip past twenty fuckin’ guards.”

“I hate to tell you this, Uncle, but that was eleven years ago. When you were in your thirties. You’re not sleeping on the Void-damned floor.” 

Foster startled hard enough to smack her prosthetic hook on the door. “I can still find something,” she offered stiffly. “My room is off the main cabin just there. Once I navigate us out of Dunwall, we’ll meet there, I have quite a bit of information to share. Please stay off the deck until we’re safely at sea.” She turned on her heel, rather abrupt, and stalked away, heading up a creaky set of stairs. 

Emily ducked into the room, finding it narrow but long in length, allowing for a sizeable bed to be tucked up in the corner of the room, covered in blankets and pillows. “We could probably share,” she said, eyeing it. 

“So long as you got outta the habit of kickin’ in your sleep,” Gerome teased. “You were like sleepin’ with a fuckin’ bloodox. Had bruises for weeks.”

Emily lifted an eyebrow at him and shrugged. “Wyman doesn’t complain,” she said lightly. 

Gerome cringed with his whole body. “Fuckin’ Void, kid. Why the fuck- No. Just, fuckin’ no. Never the fuck again. We never talk about this again. What is with you people?!”

Smirking, Emily sat on the edge of the bed. “My father always taught me never to be ashamed of love, no matter who or what I fell in love with. Uncle, are you shaming me, for my chosen partner?” Her voice broke a little in the middle of the sentence but she pushed through as best she could. The hole in her heart the shape and size of her father ached with a fierceness beyond telling; teasing Gerome as he would have made it… hurt less. 

“Never,” Gerome said. “Well, except for that fuckin’ wet napkin you dated when you were just learnin’. At least Wyman never pissed themself when I threatened them lightly.”

Emily wrinkled her nose. “Even I admit that William was a poor choice in partners,” she said ruefully. “But he was the exception to my otherwise impeccable taste. You liked Adrianna, didn’t you?” 

Gerome shrugged. “As your uncle, it’s my duty to terrify anyone you wanna date. I didn’t… I didn’t get to do that with my kid, but at least you’ve been a good sport for your crazy-ass uncle.”

“You’re not crazy,” she said. “And if it makes you happy, who am I to stop you. Father used to - He used to - He liked sneaking up on them.” She snarled in frustration as tears welled up in her eyes again. Scrubbing them away, she spat, “I don’t have  _ time _ for this, it needs to just  _ stop. _ ” 

Gerome sighed, looking off into the distance. “Kiddo, take it from a pro. It ain’t never stops. Time helps, but you never get over seein’ the people you love die. I… I still can’t… “ He rubbed a hand over his face. “There are some things you’ll never get over. Best you can do is keep walkin’ forward.”

Emily ruthlessly quashed the sob that rose in her throat. “I didn’t even get to say good bye. I  _ never _ get to say good bye. Mother died protecting me, Father died protecting me - you’ll be next, I know it. It’s all I can see when I close my eyes, Uncle. I’m  _ poison _ , everything I touch, everyone I love -” She choked on a sob, bringing her legs up to her chest, curling inward, fighting sobs with every breath.  

Gerome gripped her shoulders, waiting for her to meet his eyes. “Em,” he said, all seriousness. “I can’t promise that I won’t die to protect you. You’re as good as my own, and that’s what family does. You’ve got a role no one else can do, and that’s save the Empire from the biggest threat it’s ever seen. Calla, Pip, the others? They’d sacrifice their lives for you too. Because  _ that’s what you do for family. _ No,  _ listen  _ to me,” he said when Emily tried to protest. “We ain’t gonna fling our lives away just because. Your dad… well I don’t got any idea what happened there, but it must have taken him by surprise, an’ he was alone in there. But now we know she can do shit we never seen before, an’ we can look for it. You have a fuckin’  _ team _ now. We’re gonna be with you every step of the way, an’ we’re gonna be supporting each other. Understand?”

“Uncle,” Emily said very quietly, “What’s the point of having a role no one else can do if when it’s over, I don’t have a family to come home to?”

“It ain’t over, Sparrow,” Gerome said, fiercely. “Your family is here. An’ maybe whatever Delilah did is reversible. You said it used tech we’ve never seen before. We have no fuckin’ clue what the rules are here, but there are people in Serkonos who do know tech, an’ we’re gonna help you find ‘em. You can’t keep thinkin’ on the the ‘what ifs’ and ‘maybes’. Trust me, it’ll paralyse you quicker than any poison.”

She curled her fingers around his. “Dad named you my legal protector, did you know? I’m of age now, but if I hadn’t been and this had… he wanted you to replace him. So you can’t die, Uncle. You  _ can’t. _ If I’m going to succeed, I need you - all of you - to see this through to the end. Be careful. Please.”

“I promise, but only if you do the same. No crazy-ass stunts, understand? You follow my lead until we find Daud, then we follow the native Karnacan’s lead.”

Emily nodded. “I promise. I won’t pull anything stupid.” She smiled a little. “Dad used to tell me about how the Outsider used to try and stop him from doing stupid things, though it had limited results.” 

<There were many times he would take risks just to show off,> the Outsider said, unprompted.

Surprised, Emily snorted. “That does sound like him,” she said.

<There was a time, once, where both Lord Burton and I were both trying to keep him from foolhardy exercises.>

Emily glanced at Gerome. “It said you used to work together to keep father from doing anything stupid,” she repeated. “I imagine if he didn’t listen when there were two of you, that he was a particularly difficult charge.” She grinned, her first real smile since the events in the throne room.  “Sounds like him.” 

“There were times I wanted to to tie him up an’ leave that shithead in his rooms,” Gerome grumbled, then blanched. “Nope, nope, nevermind. Forget what I said. Fuckin’ shit, PB, why do you gotta do this to me.”

A wave of annoyance swelled up from the place in her mind where she could feel the Outsider. “PB?” she asked. “You call the AI Pretty Boy too?” 

“ _ No!” _ Gerome yelped. “Fuck, no.  No, he had another name that I ain’t repeatin’ or explainin’.”

“He did, did he?” Emily asked, raising an eyebrow. “I’m fairly certain I don’t want to know. Whatever you and my father got up to is none of my business, Uncle.” 

Gerome scrubbed at his face. “Goddamnit. We are goin’ to bed. I ain’t goin’ there, an’ neither are you. Now, get.”

Her grin widened. “Yes, Uncle. Wake me in an hour?” 

“Sure thing, Sparrow,” he said, dropping the offended expression and smiling at her. “You got second watch.”

“Yes, yes I know. I’ll see you in an hour then.” She curled up on the bed, pulling the blanket up to her chin. “Good night, Uncle.”

Gerome pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “‘Night, sweetheart, I’ll be right here if you need me, okay?”

Emily nodded, letting her exhaustion from all the running and excitement pull her under. Tomorrow was a new day. 

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drea: And so, the saga of Emily begins!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for gore and eye trauma

“I’ve heard of Addermire,” Emily said, staring at the wall of gathered information. “It’s run by Hypatia? I remember reading about her experiments with Augments and cybernetics.” She reached out and pulled the map closer to her, zooming in on the street view of the Campo Seta Harbor. “Anything I should know about the area?” 

Meagan stepped up to join her at the screen, tugging a stylus out of her pocket. In bold red, she circled a few sections of the map. “These are places with known bloodfly infestations - since Abele took over from Theodanis, anyone clearing them out has been fired, gone missing, or just doesn’t do their damn job.  The Overseers have a fairly new, fairly large presence as well, they’re run by a man named Liam Byrne.”

Pip tapped a part of the Karnaca map, highlighting it. “This is the Batista District,” he said. “The Boss came from around here, so this is where we should look for him and Thom.”

Meagan frowned at him, erasing the highlight. “It’s also heavily run by a gang who doesn’t take very kindly to his territory being taken over. I don’t recommend going there unless you have no other choice.” 

“Havin’ run with gangs most of my fuckin’ life,” Gerome cut in, “they know there’s a fuckin’ difference between wantin’ safe passage an’ wantin’ to take over. We just make contact with one of his men an’ tell ‘im we want to pass through.” He reached out and re-highlighted the section.

Meagan pulled the map of the dockyard in to a close zoom, carefully outlining portions of the street. “This is neutral territory - the Guard will be at checkpoints, but will largely be outside of the dockyard - Paolo pays them off to keep them from the market. If you need to hide, hide there.” She zoomed out and circled  the carriage house. “This one here will take you to Addermire - it’s outside of the neutral zone, so be careful.”

Emily leaned back against the stool by a half-empty work table full of inventions - whatever else she was, Meagan Foster was definitely no liar - Sokolov had definitely been on the ship.  “We will be.” She eyed Cal and Cedric and nodded once. “Alright, here’s how we’re going to play it; Karnaca isn’t a small city, and we have a lot of ground to cover. Pip, Cal, head to the Batista District, make contact with either Paolo, or find Daud. Cedric, I need you to infiltrate the Campo Dockyards as a visiting noble from anywhere but Dunwall. Start getting street-smart information and we’ll meet at the Carriage House for Addermire. Uncle, you’re with me.” 

Gerome nodded and the others left to collect their things from their rooms.

“One last thing, Empress,” Meagan said. “With the economy in dire straits, the black market has boomed - there are a number of hidden shops throughout Karnaca, just look for the signs. They’re painted in UV-reactive paint.” Meagan tossed her a flashlight that glowed blue when she clicked it on. 

“Thank you, Captain Foster,” she said. “I’ll meet you both at the deck, I just need to grab something.” 

Without waiting for either of them to respond, Emily went back to the quarters she shared with Gerome, gathering up the letter she’d written for Wyman. Arming herself with the things Foster had given her, Emily sat on the bed heavily. “This almost seems too easy,” she murmured, looking down at the crossbow on her lap.  

<Meagan Foster is heavily invested in your success, Your Highness,> the Outsider said. <She has spent the last three years travelling with Doctor Anton Sokolov, and her responses to the loss of the man indicate they had grown close.>

Emily frowned. “And what would an AI know about people growing close?” she wondered, skeptical.

There was a moment of silence, then the AI answered, <More than you would know,> in a surprisingly harsh voice.

Startled, Emily blinked, her heart suddenly racing. “I… didn’t mean to offend you?” she said. “I grew up in the age of fear for AI… it’s hard to put those lessons behind me. “ 

<Do try to remember that while you grew up with that fear, as did I.>

“... I guess you would have,” Emily said. “My father wasn’t afraid of you, was he,” she stated more than asked. 

<No,> it said, its voice soft. <Not even in the beginning. Understandably cautious, but never afraid.>

Emily smiled, looking back down at her lap. “Sounds like him. You… You were talking about you. Becoming close with him. Weren’t you?” 

<Fighting for your survival together does that,> the Outsider said. It sounded distant now, the simulated flash of emotion gone. <We were partners.>

“And now you’re stuck with me. I feel like I should apologize,” Emily said ruefully. “I… probably haven’t been the easiest person to work with.” 

<You have a right to your grief, Highness.>

But Emily shook her head. “I cannot afford to let grief cripple me now. My father is dead, and my heart is broken, but my city, my country… everyone is counting on me. I can’t wallow, not anymore. He… He wouldn’t have wanted that for me anyway.” She cleared her throat, swallowing back the  ever present lump there. “So, whatever you did for him - can you do for me? If you can give me the edge I need to finish what he started, then do it.” She paused. “Please.”

<You don’t have the augmentations your father does,> the Outsider began, sounding like it was mulling over a problem. <Give me some time to see if I can create a program to utilize your nanites. Then we will see.>

“Sure,” Emily said, almost amused by its response. “Whatever you need.” She stood up, stretching and cracking her neck. “Time to go,” she murmured. 

She left the room, closing the door behind her, and hooking the boltcaster to her belt. She met Gerome, cigarette hanging from his lips, on the stairs, and he did a terrible job of looking like he wasn’t waiting for her. “Uncle,” she said, brushing past him. “You don’t have to wait for me  _ everywhere _ you know.”

“Let an old man have his worries,” he replied, falling in step with her. “Everythin’, uh, okay?”

“Yes,” she answered, bumping shoulders with him. “Just checking in with everything. I admit, I don’t know much about the AI, and it spent years with Father, I wanted to… have a conversation, I guess.”

“And everythin’s okay now?” Gerome was currently looking everywhere but at Emily. “You’ve, uh, reached some sort of fuckin’ understandin’?”

“More or less, I think. It’ll help where it can, even though I’m not Augmented like father was.” She eyed him as they reached the top of the stairs. “You’re very interested in the AI. Something you want to tell me?”

“Not my story to tell, Sparrow. You want gossip, you go to Munchkin.”

Emily scowled at him. “That just gives me more questions.”

“Questions I ain’t fuckin’ answerin’ to my kid,” he responded.

“... You only say that when it’s a sex thing,” she hissed. 

“What? No,” Gerome looked as scandalized as a fifty-year-old, scarred-up thug could look. “You have your Da-” He cut himself off abruptly, closing his eyes. “Dammit. Sorry, kid.”

Ignoring the spike of pain his words elicited, Emily hit Gerome in the shoulder. “Uncle, I am twenty-one years old, I do not need the sex talk!” She sighed a second later. “And Callista gave it to me because my father couldn’t do it. However! That doesn’t answer my question.”

Gerome looked hunted. One of the reasons he was never there on the diplomatic meetings was because her poor uncle had the most expressive face.

“Told ya,” he said, blowing smoke over his shoulder. “I ain’t goin’ there.” He began to walk quicker towards the deck, shoulders up as if to ward off more questions.

“Do I want to know?” Emily asked the AI, turning her attention to the heaviness of his presence in her mind. 

<Likely not,> it responded, though it sounded amused.

Emily pulled a face, and followed Gerome onto the deck, stepping out into the sunlight. Karnaca was beautiful from a distance, the city was shining, and on the breeze she could smell some sort of spice. It reminded her of Daud’s office in the Tower.  “I can take you in the skiff,” Foster said, gesturing to the boat clamped to the side of the Dreadful Wale. 

One by one, they filed onto the skiff, and Emily trailed her fingers through the water as they were propelled toward the dock.  “Here,” Pip said, handing her a folded bit of cloth. “I know you took Corvo’s mask but just in case - you can use it to cover your face.” 

With Gerome’s help she tied it around her neck, moving it up over her nose. It felt odd, but she liked the weight better than the heavy metal mask. “How do I look?” 

Gerome grinned. “Like a fuckin’ highwayman from the stories.”

“It’s too bad Martin isn’t here,” she said. “I hope he’s alright.” 

“If that asshole can survive bein’ poisoned, threatened with bein’ hung, and gettin’ shot durin’ his days as a fuckin’ highwayman, I doubt there’s anything that bitch can throw at him. Unfortunately.”

Emily snorted softly. “That’s probably true. Still.”

“He’ll be fine, Sparrow,” Gerome reassured her. 

She smiled, just a little. It was easier with the others there - she couldn't imagine how she'd be right that moment without Gerome there to distract her.  Too many people had been left behind. Rin, Rulf, Martin… Alexi. 

Delilah had much to answer for.

“Right,” Emily said, tugging on her jacket. “To Addermire.” She stepped off the skiff and onto the dock, eyes catching on Cedric as he disappeared into the crowd. 

<Empress,> the Outsider said, startling her. <You should connect to the Karnacan ‘Net. I can piggyback on the connection and use that to send you important updates and map information.>

“Good idea,” she murmured. It had been many years since Corvo had taken her to Karnaca, but she could vaguely recall there being an Access Point at one of the pubs. She strode forward through the crowd of dock workers and slipped into the darkened doorway of the bar. 

There were few people inside, it wasn't close enough to noon for the lunch hour and most people were still working. 

Against the far wall was a public terminal, and Emily leaned back against the wall, disguising the cord as she plugged it into the port at the back of her neck. “Okay, Outsider,” she murmured. “Do your thing.” 

A cool wash of sensation poured from the base of her skull. <Connecting,> it said. <Connected. Downloading map coordinates of black market to Corvo’s mask. Downloading buildings marked for demolition due to bloodfly infestation. Done.>

“Are there passages through those buildings that night help me?” Emily wondered.

<Towards the west end of the docks, there is an abandoned building that you can enter. The black market is within.>

Emily unplugged herself from the terminal and walked back out to join Gerome. “Found the Market. We should head there, stock up. I only have a single hypo for the boltcaster that Piero and Anton made me, and I don't like those odds.”

Once Emily found West, it was easy enough to follow the sprawling streets of Karnaca’s harbour toward the black market. 

It appeared to be located in a ramshackle building, bricks falling out of the moulding. She stepped into the foyer but found the only door locked. Emily stared at it in consternation, about to ask Gerome to just pick it for her when someone whistled to get her attention. 

At the end of the hallway was a open window, large enough for a grown person to climb through. It led out into an alley, where a woman sat on a dilapidated couch. 

Emily could just make out her features through the window and murmured out if the side of her mouth, “Outsider, who am I looking at?”

<Mindy Blanchard, second to Paolo and lieutenant of the powerful Karnacan gang ‘The Howlers’. Tread carefully, Your Majesty.>

Murmuring a short agreement, Emily strode over to where Mindy was waiting and climbed through the window. 

She looked older than she likely was, her skin tanned and her eyes tired. Tobacco stained her fingers from where she held an unlit  _ cigarillo _ , and when Emily met her eyes, she could tell Mindy had done the same predatory sweep of her gaze.

“You look lost,” Mindy drawled, her voice smoke-rough - it reminded her of Daud. “Something tells me you shouldn't be wandering around Karnaca alone, little bird.”

“She ain’t alone,” Gerome said, sliding in through the window behind Emily. He moved his fingers in a complicated gesture that had Mindy relaxing minutely. “We were lookin’ for a way into the black market. Got some things that need buyin’.”

Mindy’s gaze flickered over Gerome’s scar, then rested briefly on the width of his shoulders, dragging down his body with a slow, predatory glance before catching his eyes again. “Mm,” she said. “Bottle Street, huh? You're a long way from home, handsome.” She glanced at Emily, treating her to the same slow once-over that she'd given Gerome. “And with such lovely company.”

Gerome snorted and flashed Mindy a lopsided smirk. “‘S been a while since a lady called my old mug handsome,” he said, faintly pink.

“Dunwall ladies are vapid things then,” Mindy drawled, settling back on the couch. “More frills than eyes.” She gave Gerome another once over. Gerome looked pleased. 

Emily turned to look at Gerome, twisting around to look at him incredulously. “Seriously?” she groaned. “You are  _ never _ allowed to give me shit over Wyman  _ again.” _

Gerome caught her in a headlock. “As your fuckin’ Uncle, it’s my Void-damned duty to fuck with your beaus. Also, it’s too damn fun not to.”

Mindy laughed, pulling out a gold plated lighter, lighting her  _ cigarillo _ and offering Gerome one. “Well, sit down handsome, and handome’s niece. Set a spell, enjoy the weather, so I can enjoy the view.”

Gerome preened, a touch embarrassed. Emily gave him an impatient look. “Uncle, no.”

“Uncle, yes,” Mindy replied, grinning.

Gerome barked out a laugh. “I like her,” he said to Emily, grinning.

Mindy’s smirk widened at that. “I appreciate it when handsome men wander into my office,” she said, gesturing around the alley. “I appreciate it more when they're competent.” She tipped a wink at Gerome, her smirk turning a bit lecherous. Emily groaned and moved away from the window, getting out of the way of Mindy’s obvious flirting. 

“Well,” Gerome said, returning her smirk in kind. “My job  _ does  _ mean I gotta be good with my hands.” He danced a knife across his fingers. “You got a job for us, beautiful? We got a problem that maybe you can fix.”

<And he used to call  _ me _ names,> the Outsider grumbled. <I remember when he used to get flustered when Corvo would flirt. I think I miss those days.>

Emily covered her face with both her hands. “Oh my  _ God.” _

Mindy sat up, leaning into Gerome’s space. “As it happens, I do have a job,” she said lightly. “I have a thing that needs doing.” Her face grew serious, a hint of sorrow turning her lips down at one corner. “It’s a grisly business,” she warned. “But if you do this for me, then my resources - and myself - are at your disposal.” 

“I think people like you an’ I got different ideas on ‘grisly’,” Gerome said, all signs of flirtation dropping. “What do you need?”

Mindy sighed, but didn't lean back. “I need a body retrieved,” she said. “He was taken by the Overseers - I don't imagine he survived their… questioning. But Amadeo was one of mine, he deserves to be buried as one of mine, and the Overseers will just let him  _ rot  _ in a pit. Bring his body to me, and whatever you need, if it's in my power, I will do.”

“Corpses are a nasty business, kiddo,” Gerome said to Emily. She picked up on the subtext,  _ is this okay? _

“Seen my share of corpses, Uncle,” Emily said. “I can respect the desire to bury family with family.” 

Gerome clasped her shoulder. “Let’s go find us a body, then,” he said. “Where do you want us to bring him?”

“Abandoned Dental place from the old world,” Mindy said. “You can get there from the roofs pretty easily.” She stood, stepping over to them and holding out a hand. “If I don't see you in two hours, I'll assume the deal is off,” she said.

Gerome stepped forward and clasped her hand in a firm grip. “See you then, gorgeous.” He winked. Emily was fairly certain he was now just trying to embarrass her on purpose.

Mindy’s business-like demeanor melted away instantly, and she smirked. “Don't worry, handsome,” she drawled, “Once the work is over, then the fun can start. I have great plans for your ass, don't you worry.” 

Gerome went a mottled red, but laughed nevertheless. “We’ll see,” he chuckled. He steered a horrified Emily up and out toward the mouth of the alley. 

As soon as they'd turned completely away from her, Mindy wolf whistled loudly enough that it echoed. 

Emily half turned to scowl at Gerome. “What the hell was all that?!” She hissed. “Even the  _ Outsider _ was making snide comments,  _ Void _ , Uncle.”

Gerome patted her shoulder. “Negotiations, kiddo,” he said. “An’ that bot always makes fuckin’ remarks.”

Emily pulled a face, rubbing her forehead. “Negotiations,” she muttered. “For what, exactly? It seemed pretty obvious she wanted into your pants, Uncle.”

Gerome grinned and rubbed the back of his neck. “Alright, so,” he began, with the air of a lecturer. “I started out givin’ the sign for peaceful negotiations, and that we are willin’ to talk business. Then the flirtin’ was mostly de-escalation. The two of us are too old for that posturin’ shit. I treated her like an equal, didn’ let her walk over me, gave her a good first impression. Also let her know you’re off th’ market an’ not with any gang. She mentioned a need for a job, said she could tell we can get up to no good, an’ be  _ good _ at it. You followin’?”

“More or less,” Emily said. “Your way seems much kinder than the politics of Dunwall,” she said. “Though if I had to flirt with Otto Peverly to get things done, I might have killed someone.”

“Ah, Shitheel,” Gerome said. “Y’remember the big ceremony when I got promoted? I got to punch ‘im in the face.” Gerome beamed at the memory. “Good times.”

“I remember,” Emily sighed. “It’s all his father brings up at Court Council.”

“‘S also what got me  _ out _ of those borin’ shitshows.” 

“Now I really wish I could do things your way, Uncle.” Emily looked up at him, as they turned down the street to head into the Market proper of the harbor district. “I trust your judgement,” she added. “If you do decide to sleep with her though, can you do it where I'm nowhere near realizing that it's happening?”

“It’d serve you right that time I came in an’ Wyman was under your desk,” Gerome grumbled, looking pained.

Emily grinned at him. “At least you didn't come in five minutes before that, Uncle.”

Gerome made a disgusted noise, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “ _ Fuck _ no,” he said, with great feeling.

“You started it, I finished it,” Emily said serenely. “Uncle, where do you think Daud and Thom are hiding? Is there any way to signal them?”

“I dunno,” Gerome said, scratching at his stubble with a scraping noise. “Thom’s all ‘by-the-fuckin’-book’. He’d’ve followed Daud’s lead. If I was a gamblin’ man, I’d bet on them makin’ their way here as soon as word reached ‘em about the shit in Dunwall. I think those two’ll find us. ‘Specially since you’re gonna make a fuckin’ splash once you get goin’.”

Emily pulled a face, jostling him. “I can be subtle,” she protested. “My father taught me everything he knows- knew.” She frowned at Gerome. “Besides, I don't want Delilah to know we're here yet.”

Gerome gave her a Look. “You’re about to break into fuckin’ Addermire an’ interrogate the head scientist. Even if you’re not caught, you’ll still have a Void-damned effect on the world. That fuckin’ bitch’ll be busy, but Daud an’ Thom know what to look for.”

“I'm not going to  _ interrogate _ her. I'm just… going to ask her a few questions.” Emily rolled her eyes. “But, fine. I see your point.” They stepped out into the street and Emily glanced around the market area. “Now, how exactly do we cross over into the residential district without alerting the Grand Guard or those machines?”

Gerome peered around. “We’ll meet up with Munchkin. He’ll have info on everythin’ by now.” Gerome paused and looked amused. “ _ An’ _ probably at least three people’s comm numbers, the fuckin’ peacock.” He looked sidelong at Emily. “If he says they’re ‘valuable contacts’, don’t fuckin’ believe him.”

“I never do, Uncle,” Emily says, snorting a quiet laugh. 

“Atta girl,” Gerome said, ruffling her hair.

Scowling and smoothing her hair down, Emily steps into the sunlight, looking around for Cedric. She'd expected to comb the area but caught sight of his shirt where he sat on a ledge not too far above their position. Emily gestured to him, getting Gerome’s attention. “Found him,” she said lightly. 

“They really are contacts, asshole,” he told Gerome, scowling. Gerome snorted.

“Yeah,” he scoffed, teasingly. “I bet there’s a lot of ‘contact’ goin’ on.”

Seeing the rest of the conversation devolve into yet another familiar argument, Emily climbed up onto the ledge to join Cedric and said, “You should have heard Gerome flirt earlier, Ced, it was ridiculous. Apparently the lady in question has plans for his ass.” She shot Gerome a considering look over her shoulder. “I think she'll be disappointed though.”

“Wait, Gerome can  _ flirt _ ?!” Cedric looked horrified at the image. “And she didn’t run away or try to shoot him?”

“Hey,” Gerome snapped. “I’m plenty charmin’.” This got the dubious expression it deserved.

“Uncle,  _ really _ ?” Emily said, rightfully incredulous. 

Gerome grumbled under his breath, looking like he was searching for examples and coming up empty.

“Anyway,” Cedric said, still looking mildly disturbed at the thought of Gerome flirting. “There’s an empty apartment building near the east end of the docks. I overheard some people talking about it. It gets us past the Wall and above the guards. The only downside is that it’s still filled with bloodflies, likely fed by various attempted looters.”

Emily shuddered. “Father used to tell me about those things. They're flammable, apparently, but also they like to lay eggs in you.” 

“They prefer corpses,” Cedric said.

“Huh,” Gerome muttered. “If I hadn’t left Bottle Street, those fuckin’ throat augs would have been useful right now.”

“Oh, right, of course. Because every situation is improved by  _ flamethrowers in your throat _ .”   
Gerome looked at Cedric blankly. “Well, yeah.”

“We'll just have to make the best of it,” Emily said. “If other looters went in, then it's possible that they brought their own supplies to burn the nests.”

Cedric nodded, ignoring Gerome grumbling about how that was “no fuckin’ fun”. “Most likely. Here, I’ll show you where it is.”

“Lead the way,” Emily said, jumping off the ledge.

Cedric hopped off the ledge as well, leading Emily and Gerome off towards the apartment in question. As soon as they got to the open window, the stench of rot and blood wafted out, with the clattering sound of hundreds of bloodfly wings.

“... This is not encouraging,” Emily muttered. 

Gerome ducked his head through the window. “They’re jus’ fuckin’ around the nests. Could probably just toss somethin’ explosive or flammable through that an’ get ‘em all.”

“Just,” Emily repeated mockingly, following behind him.

The room was once a bar, with broken screens and eerie flickering lights that do little to illuminate the large red nests that have taken over a portion of the room. There were four corpses, dropped haphazardly around, as though they'd simply died where they'd stood. The one in the middle of the floor had an arm wrapped around a bottle, one with a familiar red wax cork - Oroban Rum.

Nudging Cedric, Emily pointed it out. She sank into a crouch, moving slowly, pausing whenever the flies would buzz louder, until she reached the body. Prying the bottle away from it was no easy task, stiffness had set it, but she slipped it after some pressure. 

It was only half full, but it would have to do.

She made her way back to Gerome and Cedric and handed the bottle to Gerome. “All yours,” she murmured.

Gerome grinned. “Fuck yeah.”

He turned towards the nest and hurled the bottle with the same pinpoint accuracy he’d throw his knives. The bottle smashed against the nest, drenching both the flies and the nest in flammable rum. The nanites inside set off the usual reaction that lit the drink on fire. Usually used in the showy sort of bars, Oroban Rum was self-immolating.

Within a minute, the nest and bloodflies were ash.

Gerome turned back to Emily and swept a bow. Cedric made a disgusted noise at his posture.

“Masterfully done, Uncle,” Emily said, amused. “Bet you can't do that to all the nests.”

“You’re on, Sparrow,” Gerome said with a lupine grin, then started raiding the bar. Before long, he had an armful of bottles and a huge grin on his face. He swaggered off into the depths of the building, whistling cheerfully.

“Now we just have to pray he doesn’t burn the house down around our ears,” Cedric muttered dourly. 

Emily grinned at him. “Have a little faith, Ced. It'll be fine.” She tugged on his wrist, and moved into the room, stepping around piles of ash. The cash register was closed and locked, so Emily set to work hacking the small hololock and prying the coins out. 

There were other small things of value laying around, and Emily pocketed them absently. She was certain her father wouldn't approve but she had fled Dunwall without much in the way of funds, and, having snooped through Fosters papers, Emily gathered that her benefactor wasn't flush with coin either. 

Once the first and second room was looted to the best of her ability, she followed the scent of smoke and found Gerome standing in the middle of several burning nests. “Having fun?” She asked.

He beamed at her. “Most fun 'n I’ve had in years, Sparrow,” he said. “Here, wanna try?” He offered her a bottle.

She took it, gripping firmly by the handle. “Sure,” she said. “Why not?” At the top of the stairs leading toward another section of building was a small but busy nest; aiming carefully, she let the bottle fly.

It landed short - of course it did - but the alcohol still splashed over the nest. As it burned, Emily turned to Gerome, one eyebrow lifted. “Not as easy as it looks,” she commented. “I take back every unkind thing I've said about your aim.”

“Damn right you do,” Gerome said, magnanimously.  He threw a knife and pinned one of the remaining bloodflies to the wall. “I been usin’ knives my whole life, Sparrow. I picked up a thing or two.” He retrieved the knife and turned to Emily. “There’s a spot to climb through to the next buildin’. I saw it when I was clearin’ out the shit. Might be the way through Munchkin mentioned.”

“Probably,” she agreed. “You should gather more rum though, just in case.”

“With fuckin’  _ pleasure _ ,” Gerome said, looking pleased.

Fond, Emily leaned up and kissed his cheek. “What would I do without you,” she wondered, before breaking away to loot the rest of the apartment. There were chunks of blood amber littering the floor which she gathered quickly. From what little she remembered of Gerome’s constant rambling over art, the sculptor Cravassio used it in rare pieces, making it valuable enough to expend the space in her bag. 

There were a few scattered coins and she pocketed those too, handing over any rum she came across in the cabinets. “Here you go,” she said. 

“Thanks, Sparrow,” Gerome said, holding the necks of the bottles between his fingers. Cedric eyed them nervously.

“Don’t… Don’t drop them,” he warned. Gerome scoffed.

“When the fuck have I ever dropped  _ anything _ , huh?” He looked offended.

A sly smile slid over Cedric’s face. “Well, there was that incident with the goat,” he said, smirking.

Emily huffed. “It has been  _ eleven years _ and no one will tell much more than ‘Cal and Gerome shouldn't drink’! Someone better tell me about this goat incident.”

“Well,” Cedric began, but cut off with a shriek when Gerome pretended to bobble the rum next to him.

“ _ Oh well, let’s go we have things to do, _ ” Gerome said, walking briskly towards the stairs.

Emily grabbed Cedric’s sleeve. “Later!” She said pointedly. 

Once Cedric had grinned and nodded, Emily followed Gerome through the building and into the small broken hole in the wall that led to a second - And far nicer - apartment. 

This one, too, was infested, and Emily waved away a bit of ash as Gerome burned another nest. “I thought the Guard was supposed to take care of things like this,” Emily said, kicking aside a bloodfly husk.

“They’ve been too busy extorting shopkeepers and failing to do their jobs,” Cedric grumbled. “There’s a lot of resentment towards them along the docks.” 

Sighing, Emily took one of the bottles of rum from Gerome and hucked it at a nest at the bottom of the stairs. “Luca Abele certainly is nothing like his father,” she said. She had few memories of Theodanis Abele but of what little she did remember, he'd seemed kind to her.

“He’s draining Karnaca dry, is the word on the streets,” Cedric said, flapping a hand to ward off the smoke. “It’s going to reach a tipping point, and soon. He doesn’t give a damn about the people, and it’s going to bite him in the ass.” Cedric took nobles not living up to their duties personally.

“We'll deal with him, Ced,” Emily promised. 

Once the place was clear of Bloodflies, Emily carefully pried the door open and looked out. There was a grisly scene in the center of the district, several posts erected by the edge of the water with corpses tied to them.

The city was mostly blocked off, riot doors closing apartments off, LED signs flashing a unanimous message; if you didn't pay, you were pushed out. 

The advertisement pylons were blank and eerie, it was as though the entire district was asleep, or waiting. 

If Emily had wondered about the Overseer compound, it had clearly been an unfounded concern. Even from her position on the balcony, she could see the Overseer symbol in hologram, towering over the rest of the buildings.

“That's where we need to go,” Emily said. “Can you get down there and find us an in to the building?” She asked Cedric.

He frowned. “Those places usually have balconies for addressing larger crowds. Let me see what I can do.” Cedric Dashed off across the balconies and the tops of the artistinal lampposts.

“Uncle,  _ your _ face isn't wanted by the entire Empire. You could go down and recon with him, you know,” Emily said, leaning her hip against the metal balcony. 

“I’m your fuckin’ guardian, Sparrow,” Gerome said, fishing out a cigarette from his numerous pockets. “I ain’t leavin’ you to go get yourself arrested or, I dunno, carried off by bloodflies.”

“I'm not going to get carried off by bloodflies,” Emily said. “For goodness sake, Uncle, I'm twenty one years old. I can handle myself.”

“Em, sweetheart. Not too long ago you nearly shot Pip in the foot with your dad’s pistol. Before that, we had to fish you outta the ventilation system when you got stuck.”

“All of those things happened before I was sixteen!” She protested, shoving him. 

“Right, then how ‘bout when you tried to fight an entire bar after two fuckin’ beers?”

She fixed him with a glare. “ _ You've  _ tried to fight an entire bar before.”

“Yeah, but not by myself!” Gerome protested. “I had Cal. She’s worth, like,  _ a whole squad _ .”

“I had  _ you! _ ” Emily said. “You're at least half a squad.” She thought for a second. “Maybe a quarter.”

Gerome snorted. “Fuck you, kiddo.” He caught her in an affectionate headlock.

Yelping, Emily flailed and pinched his side in retaliation. “I speak only the truth!”

Gerome yipped in surprise and danced out of arm's reach. 

“Ah, shit,” he grumbled. “You got a mean pinch, Sparrow.”

“You deserved it,” Emily said primly. Gerome opened his mouth, the picture of indignity, then looked contemplative, shrugged and closed it.

“Do you remember who Martin sent to Serkonos?” She asked, tilting her head toward the Overseer Compound. “I know he must have mentioned it but I don't remember at all.”

Gerome shrugged. “I generally tune that smarmy asshole out,” he admitted.

Emily grinned. “I didn't think you were the type to succumb to jealousy, Uncle,  _ really. _ ”

Gerome  _ sighed _ . It was a full-body production. He threw his head back, heaved a great breath and blew it out like he was expelling her words from the air.

“Void-damnit, Sparrow,” he said, wearily. “Will you ever let that fuckin’ rumour go?”

“Nope,” Emily said, grin widening. “It’s useless to lie to me, Uncle, I know better than the ninnies at court.”

“I’m not-” Gerome began, then dragged a hand down his face. “Fuckin’ hell. Why do I even fuckin’ bother. This isn’t nearly as bad as the time you tried to ask me my intentions towards PB.”

Emily lifted both eyebrows. “Uncle,” she said, very slowly, “You call him Pretty Boy.”

Gerome went blotchy red. “I- That was- I was-  _ Argh! _ ” 

“And you blush whenever anyone mentions it, him, or your relationship,” she added. “No, don't protest, it's okay. You don't have to tell me. I'm glad… well, I'm glad he had someone, after mother.”

“It ain’t right when a lady of your station starts speculatin’ on her dad’s love life,” Gerome muttered, with the air of someone watching their last hope dwindle away into the distance.

Emily snorted. “Tell that to the Court, hm?” She slid her arm around his waist, leaning her head on his shoulder. “You two were pretty secretive but also kind of obvious; of course I had to speculate.”

Gerome jerked his head up from where he’d buried it in his hands. “Wait, obvious? What was obvious? Nothin’ was happenin’ so nothin’ should be obvious!”

“Uncle, you two had  _ secret meetings _ , and the maids saw you leave his rooms late in the night,  _ and _ you two could have entire conversations from across the room with just your faces.” She looked up at him earnestly. “Exactly what part of that wasn't obvious?”

Gerome’s shoulders hitched up and he looked away. “Nothin’ happened. Nothin’ ever fuckin’ happened between us, alright? The secret meetings were just meetings goin’ over schedules an’ trainin’ me to be a better second an’ help me get through fuckin’ court events. Anyway, he’s got- Just. Nothin’ happened between us.”

Oh. Oh  _ no. _ Emily pulled back, looking at Gerome’s unhappy face. “ _ Uncle,”  _ she breathed. “Why didn't you  _ tell _ him?”

Gerome’s shoulders hitched up even more. “There’s nothin’ to tell. He’s my best friend an’ my boss an’ I wasn’t gonna fuck anythin’ up.”

Emily pulled him into a tight hug. “I'll stop teasing you,” she said, quietly. “I'm so sorry, Uncle. If I'd known…”

“There wasn’t anythin’ to know,” Gerome grumbled, but it was half-hearted at best. He held his cig away from her and hugged her with the other arm. “‘S fine. I know everyone just likes teasin’ ‘cause they say I make dumb faces.”

“I'm still sorry,” she said. “I…” She trailed off, thinking of the unending support he'd given her on the trip to Serkonos.

Gerome jostled her with the arm still wrapped around her. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “You’re still a sight better than the other chucklefucks who tease me about it. Y’know the Twins came up with a fuckin’  _ song _ ? It’s fuckin’ catchy, too, the shitheads.”

“They taught me,” Emily said, snorting. “Good thing neither of them can carry a tune in a bucket. I caught Father singing it once though,” she admitted. “He was humming the tune, but didn't know where it was from.”

Gerome glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “Betcha it was the sanitised version. The other had, uh,  _ gestures _ .” He went blotchy again.

“... I really want to see this some day,” Emily said. “But. I'm… I owe you some extra thanks, for the journey here. I was… a mess, but I didn't notice you were too.”

Gerome shifted so he could put his bony chin on the crown of Emily’s head. It hurt. “Quit it with the feelin’s already,” he muttered. “You’re as much my kid as anyone’s after all these years. I ain’t gonna let you do this alone, Sparrow.”

“You don't mind my feelings, don't lie.” She hugged him tighter. “Thanks, Uncle.”

“Anytime.”

Emily, sensing that Gerome had had his fill of emotions for the day, tugged on his sleeve. “Let’s go over there,” she suggested. “I can see an open window and it probably doesn't have bloodflies?”

Gerome cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Good.” He promptly let go of Emily and gave the distance a judging look. “Right. ‘Kay. Hop on,” he told her, crouching down. “I’ll Dash across.”

Emily brightened. “You haven't carried me on your back since I was twelve!” She climbed on, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and neck. “I'm not too heavy, am I?”

“Nope,” Gerome grunted, sounding strained. He took a firm grip on her legs and stood, staggering only a little. Then everything was turned into a blur of wind and speed, and Gerome was skidding to a stop centimetres away from the other edge of the balcony.

Emily jumped down, holding Gerome’s elbow. “That's it,” She said. “When this is all over, I'm getting leg augments.”

“You know how many kids break their fuckin’ noses runnin’ into walls?” Gerome asked, looking horrified. “ Then he sighed. “We’ll discuss this when this is all over.”

She stuck her tongue out at him and pushed the window open with one hand. “I'll be fine. I've been watching you and Father do it for… whoa.” She trailed off, looking into the room. Dancing purple lights caught her attention, and Emily climbed through the window to see better. “Uncle, are you seeing this?” She asked, a little awed.

“What the entire an’ actual fuck,” Gerome said.

She ventured forward, looking around the corner. In the center of a small room stood a strange contraption of wood and barbed wires. It was draped in purple fabric, that was soft and silky to the touch. The lights on the walls were small circular LEDs that spun purple and white light around slowly, like stars or galaxies. 

Sitting on the altar, or whatever it was, were two flat discs. Slowly, purple light staining her skin, Emily reached out and picked them up.

For a half second, everything just…  _ stopped. _ The lights stopped moving, the cries of the gulls and street peddlers were silenced, Gerome stood motionless just behind her, one hand reaching out to her.

Emily looked down at the things in her hands, fingers tracing the strange symbol on the back of the flat disc. The symbol burst into light and color, glowing brighter and fiercer the longer she held it.

Pain burned through her hand, and Emily tried to drop the bones, finding them fused to her fingers. The symbol spread itself onto the back of her left hand, and shadows filled the room to wrap around her like an embrace.

When Emily had been injected with the nanites that allowed her to control the Towers Net, she'd only felt stinging pain. The shadows, conversely, buoyed her up, and for a brief moment, she felt like she could do  _ anything. _

As quickly as it had begun, it ended, and the world flung itself back into motion, and sound rushed back in. 

“ _ Emily!”  _ Gerome looked frantic. He lunged forward and physically dragged her away from the altar. “What just happened? Are you alright? Speak to me!”

“Uncle?” She blinked away shadowy impressions. “I'm fine. That was… odd. But I'm fine.” She turned her hand over and frowned at the Brand there. “I… don't think this is an augment.”

<It most certainly is not!> The Outsider seemed to surge forwards. <This isn’t right. This shouldn’t have happened!>

Emily flinched, putting her right hand to her temple. “Ow, you're in my head, there's literally no need to shout. What are you talking about, do you know what this brand is?”

<There is every reason to shout!> Emily couldn’t tell if the Outsider was more angry or afraid. <That’s the old Mark. That’s a shrine to the God That Was.  _ It should not have done that _ !>

“Well it did, so tell me what exactly it does!” Emily said, fear beginning the pierce the strange powerful feeling the Mark had given her. 

<Back when there was… In the Bad Old Days, it was used to channel power from a primordial plane and turn it into supernatural abilities. But that’s not possible anymore.>

“So what you're saying is… I have magic?” Emily repeated slowly.

Gerome held her out at arm’s length and gave her another once-over. “Wait, what? Where? How?”

“I don't know. He said this Mark is from an old god from Old Dunwall. And that it allowed people to uh… channel power from a primordial plane.” 

“What.”

<But it’s been dead for centuries!>

“But it's been dead for centuries,” she repeated dutifully. “Uncle, I have  _ magic _ .”

Gerome looked intensely distrustful. “Like what?”

“Like… I don't know.” She held out her left hand. The world went grey around the edges, and Gerome froze, his mouth open in a protest. The Outsider was silent in her head and Emily looked at the glowing Mark on her hand.

**Reach** , an unknown and unfamiliar voice said, reverberating through her.  _ Something _ pulled her forward, and when Emily blinked, she was across the room, staring at Gerome’s gobsmacked expression.

Emily reached out again, and  _ Reached. _

The world flowed around her and she found herself directly in front of Gerome. “Like  _ that _ !” She crowed. “Uncle! I can  _ teleport!” _

“I am really fuckin’ uncomfortable with this,” Gerome said, wide-eyed. “Are you sure it’s safe to use?”

<With a proper caretaker, it was,> the Outsider said. <But now…>

“This is the coolest shit!” Emily cried, Reaching across the room. “This is better than Dashing! I can do  _ magic! _ ”

“You’re doin’ a tentacle thing and I’m uncomfortable with that sentence.”

“I am?! So cool!” She spun in a circle, looking around her. “Outsider, is that normal? What can you tell me about the gods that were?”

<They were caretakers of the Void,> the Outsider said. <Through the millenia they have changed. A boy, a man, a pair of twins, a flame, an orb. Some were completely impartial, some meddled in the affairs of humans. The most recent had bestowed that Mark upon humans that held the power to alter fate itself. But the Void lost its power, and its caretaker. This should have been impossible.>

Emily Reached across the room again, laughing. “This is literally the  _ best _ .” She turned to Gerome, grinning widely. “Uncle, don't make that face, it's fine! I can do magic, how are you not excited? It's  _ magic!” _

Gerome scowled. “I don’t fuckin’ trust it. There’s gotta be a catch.”

“Outsider? Is there a catch?” Emily asks, looking down at her tattooed hand and flexing her fingers.

<Before, you just had to retain the attention of the deity, but now... > The Outsider still sounded unnerved. <I advise caution.>

“I wonder what else I can do,” Emily said, and reached out her left hand. She was familiar with Reaching - It had a particularly steep swooping sensation in her stomach that was immediately obvious to her. 

So when the world dissolved into darkness and her limbs liquefied into shadow, Emily was  _ not _ expecting that at all. Living shadow, Emily crawled across the floor, instinctively turning to Gerome. The shadows burst from her, grabbing Gerome by the ankle and knocking him to the floor.

Emily shook off the power, finding herself crouched over Gerome’s chest. “... Uncle?”

Gerome skittered back from her, looking incredibly unnerved. “ _ Never, _ ” he said, rubbing his ankle. “ _ Never do that again.  _ Fuck.”

“I didn't know I was going to do that! I panicked, a little. Sorry, Uncle. I'll… try not to do that one again.” Emily sat up, rubbing the back of her neck. “I don't even know what I did, really.”

“If you don’t know what it fuckin’ does, then don’t fuckin’ do it!”

“I was just experimenting,” Emily protested, ignoring his tone. “How else am I going to learn?”

Gerome scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’d rather you didn’t experiment. What if you did somethin’ that you couldn’t take back, huh?”

“Or,” Emily said, “What if I'm right in the middle of doing something, like seeking Hypatia, and the magic does its thing anyway, and I end up outing myself? To the Overseers? Or the Grand Guard?”

Gerome sighed. “Fine. Just, have the ‘Bot do his analysing thin’, okay. Maybe he can get some data or some shit from it? I dunno, I ain’t the AI whisperer your dad was.”

Emily nodded in acceptance. “Outsider, is there any insight you can offer on the effect this magic has on my system?”

<No data found,> it said. <But I  _ will _ be monitoring.> This sounded almost like a threat, but didn’t seem directed at her.

“Thank you?” She said carefully. “It said it would monitor me,” she informed Gerome. “We should see if Cedric is nearby, he's probably looking for us.”

She walked across the room normally, sticking her head out of the window. Cedric stood by the building they'd entered the Market district from, leaning into a Guard’s space. The set of his shoulders and hips seemed distinctly flirtatious and Emily snorted. “Well,” she said over her shoulder, “When you're right, you're right.”

Gerome scrambled to his feet, grinning. “Ha ha! That li’l fuckin’ peacock.”

Cedric moved closer to the Guard, fingering the lapel of the uniform jacket, and murmured something that made the Guard flush a scarlet red. “I wonder what he's saying to him,” Emily said, climbing out the window. They were too high up to hear, but the red blush on the Guard’s face was growing the longer Cedric talked.

Gerome grinned around another cigarette. “That fucker could charm the pants off’a anyone with a certain type. An’ he could alway spot them from across a fuckin’ crowd. Always had shit taste, though.”

The Guard pressed in as though angling for a kiss, but Cedric halted him with two fingers against his lips. A second later, he was ambling away, a distinct sway to his hips as he crossed in front of their building and around the opposite corner. The Guard looked smitten, as well as frustrated as he moved back to his post along the riverfront. “... don't think about that kiss,” he said, just loud enough for Emily and Gerome to hear. “That kiss.”

“Wow,” Emily said. “I think I need to take some lessons from him.”

“Do the fuck not ask Munchkin for lessons,” Gerome growled.

“I am absolutely going to ask Cedric for lessons,” Emily said decisively. “Wyman won't know what hit them.”

Gerome suddenly looked amused. “Yeah,” he said. “Y’know what? Sure. Get lessons from Munchkin on seducin’ people. It’ll be hilarious.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Why are you suddenly on board with this.”

Gerome attempted to look innocent. “No reason.”

“You are a terrible liar, Uncle.” Emily scowled at him before moving across the balcony and dropping to street level next to Cedric. “Gerome won't let me ask you for lessons in seduction,” she said plainly. 

“I’m not sure I’m entirely comfortable teaching you how to seduce someone,” Cedric said, taken aback. “Wait,  _ Gerome! _ ”   
“Yeah?” Gerome said, leaning over the balcony.

“Are you  _ seriously  _ bringing up Bunting?! I had it handled!”

“Uh-huh.” Gerome blew out a plume of smoke. “That’s why PB had to fish you outta trouble, right?”

“That’s not- I wasn’t-” Cedric spluttered before rallying. “Fuck you!”

“Looks like that Guard has a prior claim, kiddo.”

Cedric made a noise reminiscent of boiling tea kettle.

“The Art Dealer propositioned you?” Emily asked, hiding a smile. “Really?”

“There was a- a thing. He wanted to- You know what? I am not having this conversation. Not now, not ever, and Gerome can get fellated by a hagfish!” The man in question was sniggering above them.

Emily snorted, patting Cedric’s arm. “I still want my lessons,” she said. “My payment will be never asking anyone else about your liaison with Bunting.”

“ _ There was no liaison oh my word Emily!” _

She smiled innocently. “That's not what Gerome says,” she drawled. “Otherwise I'm going to have to ask Thom.”

“Thomas will back me up,” Cedric said, primly. “He and I have an agreement. One that’s not fit for a scoundrel like your uncle.”

“Ooh, dearie me,” Gerome said, hopping down from the ledge and waggling his eyebrows at Cedric. “An ‘agreement’, huh? Is that what the kids are callin’ it these days.”

Emily gasped, hitting Cedric in the chest. “You and Thomas,  _ really?  _ And you never said! I'm hurt, Cedric. Hurt and appalled.” 

“ _ That is not what I meant!” _

“Careful, Munchkin,” Gerome said. “Get any higher an’ human ears won’t be able to hear you anymore.”

“I hate you so much,” Cedric hissed. Then he coughed and made a show of straightening his clothing. “ _ Anyways _ , the easiest way into the Overseer compound is via the balconies, but I don’t think we’d be able to make the jump carrying you. Sorry, little sister. We’ll have to leave you outside and get Miss Blanchard’s man out on our own.”

Emily grinned slowly. “Show me the balconies?” She asked him. 

Cedric waved them forward, climbing the crates and boxes of the excess market goods until they got to the flat roof of an old sandstone building. It had shacks erected on top, but they were all empty except for the last, containing only a corpse.

At the far end of the roof, the Overseer compound loomed, an ostentatious thing of silver and chrome, with a balcony that ran all along the third floor. It was too far to jump, though at a push, Gerome and Cedric could Dash.

“I'm gonna do it,” she said to Gerome. 

“Fuckin’ Void,” Gerome said, resigned. “I wash my fuckin’ hands of this.”

“If it ends in tears, you can berate me then. But it gives me a fighting chance, otherwise, I'm limited. I'm not like you two, or Father. I can't do anything useful.” Emily sighed, looking away. “At least now I'm not dead weight.”

“Oh, Em, you weren’t-” Cedric began, but he was cut off when Gerome smacked the back of her head.

“You’re a fuckin’ leader, Sparrow. Y’think your dad or Daud ran every op himself? Of-fuckin’-course not. They gave orders, figured shit out, and didn’t fuckin’ wallow.”

Outraged, Emily whirled on him. “I'm not  _ wallowing _ , fuck you, Uncle! I'm being practical!” She pointed at the Overseers compound and snapped, “If I send you two in there for Blanchard’s friend and you get  _ caught _ , what am I supposed to  _ do?  _ I don't know where Daud or Thom is, I don't know the protocol for gang leaders like you, and I'd be stuck up here, on this roof, and not know what happened to you. Daud or my father maybe didn't run ever operation themselves, but they had a team of forty! I have two! And you're not so  _ fucking dispensable  _ that I can just sit idly by and send you to your possible deaths!” She cut herself off, breathing hard. “Fuck you, wallowing.”

Gerome was grinning again. “There’s the fire I was lookin’ for. Stop forgettin’ you got that in you. You’re a fighter, not some pampered noble choffer who don’t know what end of the gun fires. Fightin’ an’ survivin’ run in your blood. Now let’s go storm an Overseer compound.”

She punched him in the shoulder. “I hate you.”

He sent her a rakish grin. “Lies. I’m fuckin’ charmin’ as shit.”

“I'm mad at you, don't be cute.” 

“I’m fuckin’ adorable. Like a puppy.”   
“Like a wolfhound with mange, you mean,” Cedric muttered. Gerome flipped him off.

Emily eyed the distance between their position and the balcony. “I can make that,” She decided. “Ready to see some shit, Ced?”

“ _ Language! _ ”

“Sure,” Cedric said, ignoring Gerome and raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

Emily stretched out her left hand, and Reached. Her stomach swooped as the magic pulled her across the gap. She landed on her feet, stumbling forward half a step before turning and sketching a jaunty bow. “Ta da!”

“Fuck me!” Cedric was staring at her, wide-eyed.

Gerome sighed. “First the Guard, then Thom, now her? When will it fuckin’ end.”

Without taking his eyes off of her, Cedric punched Gerome. “How did you do that?”

“I,” Emily said archly, “have magic.” She gestured to the balcony. “Well, come on then, slow pokes!”

Gerome snorted, backed up a few steps and blurred across. Cedric did the same, still looking at her as if she had suddenly taken flight.

“It’s… safe?” He asked. He gingerly touched her wrist, as if to check if she was still real.

“Safe enough,” Emily said. “The Outsider is monitoring me, and will inform me of any changes. I can do something else, but I have it on good authority that it's creepy.”

“Very,” Gerome said, moving to take point. “Very fuckin’ creepy.”

“Show you later,” Emily muttered, falling into line behind Gerome. Gerome led them around the balcony and slid a knife between the window and the sill.

“When I lift this,” he whispered. “Don’t touch the frame. ‘S got contact sensors rigged to set off alarms unless deactivated, an’ we can’t take the chance it was left off.”

Emily nodded, steadying herself. “Got it,” she murmured. 

Once the window was open, and Gerome had ducked his way through, Emily watched where he'd put his hands and copied him. She briefly considered Reaching, but didn't know exactly what she looked like or if she would inadvertently hit the frame while doing it.

Safely in the room, Emily looked around, feeling a  _ tug _ in her navel, leading her from Gerome’s side and into a side room. The  _ tug _ turned into a  _ pull _ , turned into a  _ yank _ and Emily found herself standing in front of a safe. 

She was a decent hacker, but there was no way for her break into this one without extensive knowledge of ciphers, something her royal education had sorely lacked. 

“Ooh,” Cedric cooed. “Looks like the new Winslow cypher. I am coming back to you, gorgeous.” He patted the safe lovingly.

“There's something magic in there,” Emily said. “I can… feel it.”

Gerome side-eyed her, but Cedric immediately took that as his cue to pull out a little datapad and start typing away furiously with one hand, while the other opened the HoloLock. Gerome shifted so that he covered the door. Within a minute, Cedric had the ‘lock picked and the door open. 

“Thought you said this was a  _ new _ cipher?” Emily asked, as she pulled open the door. Sitting inside the safe were gold bars that she handed over to Gerome, and under those she found a thick slab of bone, just like the one she'd found in the shrine. It dissolved in her hands when she picked it up and a stinging, tingling rush filled her, starting at her hands and rushing up to center in her eyes. 

She rubbed them quickly, blinking a few times. As she blinked, her vision…  _ shifted. _ The world went yellow and grey around her, Cedric and Gerome glowing a bright red. The gold bars still in Gerome’s hands were yellow, bright spots of color.

Emily looked around. “Um,” she squeaked. “I think these bone things are giving me my powers?”

“Great,” Gerome deadpanned. “What’ve you got now? Turnin’ into a swarm of rats? Summonin’ wind to topple your enemies?” He sounded unfairly put upon.

“No,” Emily said with growing excitement. “I can see through walls. Uncle!  _ I have x-ray vision!” _ She glanced up at the ceiling, narrowing her eyes. “There are three people upstairs. Two are there,” She pointed. “One is sitting down, and there.” She pointed to the other side of the room. “There's also something magic up there, and at least two coin purses.”

Cedric shifted and moved as if to cover himself. “X-ray vision?” He squeaked.

Emily gave him a flat look. “I can't see through your clothes, choffer,” she said. “But I can tell that Uncle has a necklace on and you're keeping your coin purse in your left shoe.”

“Langu- wait, what?” Gerome’s hand went to his chest, clutching at his shirt.

Emily nodded. “It's shiny, and I see it in gold-yellow light. Looks like a heart - a locket?” 

“Ooh, Gerome,” Cedric said grinning. That was about as far as he got before Gerome cut him off.

“ _ Don’t,” _ he snapped, knuckles going white.

Emily cleared her throat. “The point is,  _ I can see through walls. _ ” 

“But not through clothes,” Cedric demanded. 

“Ced, what the hell are you wearing under your jacket that you're so afraid I'll see?” She demanded right back. “Are you wearing ladies underwear, or something? Unless it's shiny and valuable, I can't see it. Relax.”

“ _ I have never once ever done such a thing Emily Drexel Lela Kaldwin this is inappropriate!” _ If they weren’t sneaking, Emily bet he would be shrieking again.

Emily grinned and blinked a few times to turn off the magical effect. “Uh huh. Sure.” She turned to Gerome. “Ready, Uncle?” 

“Sure thing, Sparrow, if you’re done makin’ Munchkin turn red.” Gerome smirked.

“Never,” Emily said, grinning. Cedric just covered his face and groaned.

“Since you got the magic eye powers,” Gerome said. “You think you get us around everyone without gettin’ us caught?”

Emily thought about it for a sec, before nodding slowly. “I can try.” She closed her eyes, willing the magic back into her eyes. The world went grey, and she looked down at the floor. “Below us are three men,” she reported quickly. “Judging by the power lines, and that they're all seated, they seem to be at terminals.” She looked up. “Above us are three more men. One is sitting down, he hasn't moved at all, so that might be Blanchard’s friend. The other two are nearby but one keeps moving to another room. If we take the stairs, we should be out of sight.” She began to leave the room. “You two ready?”

Cedric, still flushed, nodded silently.

Creeping up the stairs was easy enough, the world was still flat and grey but the lights ended at the top of the stairs. She pushed open the door, and held up a hand for them to wait, letting an Overseer come close to them. As soon as he turned, Emily reached out with her powers and melted into shadow.

She swarmed across the hall, grabbing the Overseer by the ankle and dragging him back, a shadowy hand over his mouth. As soon as they were back in the narrow stairwell, Emily reformed into herself, choking the Overseer the way her father had taught her.

“Never gonna stop bein’ creepy,” Gerome said. Cedric just looked horrified.

“What,” he said. “How. What. No.”

“Still have two others in there. One with his back to us at the end of the room,” Emily reported smugly. 

She moved into the room, stepping carefully around the unconscious Overseer and sighted the second one easily. He was standing in a room at the end of the hall, his back to them, leaning over a desk. 

The other room was glass paneled, but it was clearly one way glass, revealing a bloodied, likely unconscious man, sitting and maglocked to a chair. The door was HoloLocked, just like the safe from the previous room. 

“There's magic in with the Overseer,” Emily murmured, and Reached forward, coming to a stop behind him. She pulled him into a chokehold, taking him off balance and holding him tightly. “Okay,” she said. “This is the  _ coolest shit _ .”

“Still don’t like it,” Gerome grumped. Cedric rolled his eyes and crouched in front of the door, already hacking it.

Emily stuck her tongue out at Gerome, reaching automatically to pick up the magic whatever it was. It didn't dissolve like the large slab of bone did, but it was definitely made of the same material. It was shaped like a cross, covered in iron filings and brackets and it glowed to her altered eyes with blue light. When she brought it closer to herself, it almost sounded like it was  _ singing. _

“Hey, Outsider,” Emily prompted quietly, “What  _ is  _ this?”

<A bone charm,> it told her. <They were talismans made in an age long past to ward against pregnancy or improve virility. I cannot tell you what this one can do.>

Emily wrapped her fingers around it, hooking it onto her belt. As soon as she had, a pulse ran through her and she felt…  _ stronger _ . 

“Em, are you alright?” Cedric peered around from the ‘lock.

“You kinda… glowed for a sec, there,” Gerome said, continuing to look uncomfortable with anything to do with magic.

Emily moved into the larger room, and nodded slowly. “It's a bone charm. It… I think it made me stronger.” She eyed the metal bench against the wall. Calla had lifted a similar one once, when Emily had been small. 

Experimentally, Emily reached out and picked it up. The thing weighed barely anything at all, despite being solid metal. She hefted it, one handed, over her head for a second. “Holy  _ shit, _ ” she said. “I need to arm wrestle Cal,  _ immediately _ .”

Gerome goggled, then shook himself. “Em,  _ no.” _

The ‘lock beeped and clicked open. Cedric peered around the corner and whistled, softly. “Em,  _ yes. _ Ten coin on our girl, old man.”

Gerome heaved a sigh. “How the fuck has this become my life?” He asked the air.

Emily put the bench down. “Uncle, don't you  _ believe _ in me? I can totally beat Cal!” 

“Yeah, I believe you, but for fuck’s sakes, don’t hurt yourself or her.”

She frowned at him. “I wouldn't.” Noticing the opened cell door, Emily ruffled Cedric’s hair on the way inside. “Hello?” She called softly, seeing the man - likely Amadeo- slumped over a table. His hands were locked behind his back, and he was leaning forward to rest his head on the table. 

The angle made it so she couldn't tell if he was breathing. 

Closer inspection revealed that his shirt was actually tan, but dried blood had turned it a rusty brown. Emily leaned over, pressing two fingers to the pulse point on his neck. “He has a pulse,” she reported. “It's really weak. Ced, go see if you can find any elixirs, there may be some on the second floor. Don't get caught.” She glanced around the room, shaking her head to turn on her magic vision. “Uncle, the Overseer I took out by the desk has a keycard. Go grab it for me? It's in his left back pocket.”

Gerome wrinkled his nose. “You sure Munchkin doesn’t want to feel around in his pockets? Looks like his type.”

“Fuck you, Gerome,” came from the other room. Gerome snickered and started going through the Overseer’s pockets.

Emily rolled her eyes. “You two are as bad as each other.” Gently, she checked over Amadeo, looking for specific injuries, when suddenly the man turned his head and snapped at her. 

She yelped, ducking away. “I already told you,” the man snarled weakly, “I'm not telling you shit.”

His teeth were too sharp to be fully human - or fully natural - and when he opened his eyes, Emily had to stifle a gasp. His eyes were gone, bloody pits the only thing left behind. “I.. I'm not an Overseer,” she said hastily. “My name is… Jess. Your friend, Mindy Blanchard, she sent me to find you.”

Amadeo closed his eyes with a resigned snarl. “Oh, she did, did she?” he muttered. “Should have waited another few hours. Be dead by then, and no mistake.”

Emily bit her lip. “If you allow, I'll do my best to heal some of your wounds. My… associates will have elixir, and I'm a decent field medic.” She turned to look out the door. “Gerome, where's that maglock keycard?”

Gerome popped into the room at her voice, and swore softly at the ruin of Amadeo’s eyes. “Here, kid,” he said, handing her the keycard.

“Thanks,” she said absently, using it to unlock Amadeo’s shackles. “Okay, Mr. Amadeo, you're free.”

“Jess, was it?” Amadeo asked with a humorless smile. “I appreciate the thought but I can't move. My legs won't take the weight.”

Looking over his legs, Emily could see the pits in his legs under his pants where the ports for leg augments used to be. “Right. Okay. I can carry you. The offices where Ms. Blanchard wanted us to bring you aren't far.”

Amadeo snorted then winced. “You?”

“Yes, me.” She eyed his wounds again. “I could take you in a fireman carry. Or have you on my back. Your choice.”

“Carried by a  _ girl _ . Mindy will never let me live it down,” he muttered. “Just get me out of the chair. There's an easy roof exit from here.”

Emily nodded once. “Gerome, go get Cedric then meet us at the roof exit.”

Gerome flicked her his trademark lazy salute and Dashed out the door.

She turned her attention back to Amadeo. “I don't have Augments so it's going to be the slow way,” she said. “I'll put you on my back, can you hold on?”

“Girl, if you get me out of here, I'll hold anything you want.” Emily stifled an inappropriate snort, crouching in front of Amadeo and pulling his arms around her shoulders. “I'm as good as I'm gonna get,” he said. She stood slowly, shifting her weight. 

Even with his extra weight, she made it up the stairs to the roof without issue, meeting Gerome and Cedric a moment later. “Any luck with elixirs?” She asked.

Cedric held out three. “I did!”

“Perfect, thank you,” Emily said, “Have as many as you need, Amadeo,” she added, shifting his weight so he could loose his arms from around her shoulders in order to take some of the elixir. 

Amadeo took one of the elixirs and sipped at it, gesturing vaguely with his other hand. “That way,” he said. “If you follow the rooftops, you’ll get to a Dentist’s Office. It’s abandoned now, most things in this quadrant are, but there’s a window we can slip through to get to the basement. That’s where Mindy’ll be; she’s expecting a corpse, you know.” 

“I sort of assumed,” Emily said, eyeing the surrounding rooftops. “There’s a giant sign with a neon green tooth on it, I’m going to assume that’s the office we want.”

“Yeah, that’s the one,” Amadeo said.

“Abbey approved, huh,” Gerome said, eyeing the sign. “It’d fuckin’ have to be, this close.”

Amadeo snorted, tossing the empty elixir bottle off to one side. “Well, the Doc is dead, trying to use some long-dead magic to bring his wife back from some kind of sickness. So, Abbey approved my left foot.”

Emily snorted quietly but kept her thoughts on long-dead magic to herself. She moved over the roof, finding the broken window easily. “Watch your head,” she told Amadeo, and ducked into the much cooler interior. 

The set of rot and decay immediately wafted up and Emily gagged a little. “What  _ is  _ that?” she hissed, breathing shallowly through her mouth.

“Long-dead magic,” Amadeo said. “Just… don’t explore too much up here.” 

“Hadn’t planned on it,” Emily muttered, locating the stairs leading downward. Once they moved a few flights away from the top floor, the scent of death faded to bearable levels. Cedric found the basement door in short order and held it open for Emily to make her way down.

Her newly magic eyes told her that someone was waiting down below, alone, and Emily made her way down the steps slowly, avoiding any boards in the stair that looked dodgy. 

Mindy was waiting for her, leaning on a shovel, a cigarette in one hand. “... Fuck me,” she said, looking Emily over. 

“I’ll leave that to my Uncle, thanks,” she said. She tapped Amadeo’s leg to let him know she was moving him, before letting him slide to the ground. 

“Min,” Amadeo said, with a tired grin. “Figure Paolo ain’t gon’ let me do much in the Howlers now.” He waved a hand in front of his face. “Hot poker to the face sort of…” he broke off. “Well. I’m back.”

Mindy barked a laugh. “Yeah, I can fucking se--- I’ve noticed.” 

Amadeo frowned at her. “You’re not allowed to make any sight puns until I do,” he warned. “Thank Miss Jess for finding me before they decided to kill me, and then help me get out of here, would you? I want a drink, a bath and some food, and not necessarily in that order.”

Mindy glanced at Emily. “Never did get your name,” she said. “Nor your handsome Uncle’s.”

“Jess Burton,” Emily said without batting an eyelash. “Pleasure.” 

Gerome did a doubletake. Then he tugged her into a side hug looking like he was trying not to beam at everyone.

Cedric stepped around them and sketched a courtly bow to Mindy. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Cedric, Miss Blanchard.”

Mindy laughed, looking him over obviously. “Cedric, hm?” she drawled. “What’s a pretty little thing like you running around with a Bottle Street Thug and his niece, I wonder? You’d have a grand time of it off with me.” She smiled, stepping closer to him. 

Cedric smiled back, a shark’s smile with too many teeth to be friendly. “Oh, I doubt that, Miss Blanchard,” he said, his light tone somehow managing to underline the predator in his smile.

That only made Mindy laugh again. “I like him,” she told Gerome. “One of yours?”

“Yup,” Gerome said, reaching out to ruffle Cedric’s hair. The predator disappeared, replaced by the dandy who scowled and fussily tried to fix his appearance.

“Cedric Burton, Jess Burton… and your name, handsome?” Mindy asked, “I’d like to know who I’m packing into crates, after all.”

Cedric paused and blinked at Mindy. “Wait, what?”

Gerome snorted and held out a hand. “Gerome Burton, gorgeous. Hope you ain’t expectin’ a pretty little bow like this fancy shithead did.”

“I would never,” Mindy promised. She took a few steps backward and whistled sharply. Emily looked up as several bright gold silhouettes appeared outside the basement room. “You three need to get to Addermire, no? The bullet train has been on lockdown for months, surprise inspections, emergency stops, the whole nine. You won’t be able to sneak aboard a stay hidden for long, even with my boys helping you get there.” She reached into her pocket, pulling out three small pins. “These mark you as Howlers, just go straight up to the carriage house with me, and I’ll get you settled. It won’t be comfortable, but it’ll get you there.”

Amadeo cleared his throat. “And me?”

“The boys will take you back to Batista,” Mindy said, stepping around Emily to brush a kiss over Amadeo’s upturned mouth. “Don’t fight the medics too hard, alright,  _ caro _ ?” 

“Yeah, yeah…” he muttered. “Go play spy with the Burtons.” He looked over in Emily’s general direction. “Thanks,” he said. “I owe you one.”

“Take care of yourself, Amadeo,” Emily said. “Do you two need anything before we go to the Carriage house?” she asked Gerome and Cedric. 

“Nah.” “No, thank you.”

“Alright, Ms. Blanchard,” Emily said, squaring her shoulders. “Lead on.”

 

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Troo: A note about the Outsider. You guys may notice he's a hell of a lot quieter, and a lot more robotic than he was in the previous fic. This will be explained.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A reminder that Cedric is as straight as a twisty straw, Gerome is totally a terrifying ex-thug stop gigglin' Em, and Emily has no idea what she's doing

After the loading crane dropped them down, Emily listened carefully for the sound of the bullet train pulling away again. She focused on her magic, and looked around, but saw no one except the two curled up bodies of Gerome and Cedric. 

With some effort she popped the top off the box, and when Emily climbed out of the supply crate, she felt like her legs were going to snap in two. She managed exactly one step before they folded under her, and she sat on the ground outside the train tracks for several long seconds. “Uncle?” she called. “Cedric?”

One crate opened, and Cedric tumbled out. “Never. Again,” he groaned, stretching out. The he looked at the state of his clothes and made a noise of distress.

The other crate made some thumping noises, then fell silent.

“...Em?” Gerome’s voice was muffled, and sounded faintly embarrassed.

“Uncle…?” she answered, using the crate to haul herself to her feet.

“...I’m stuck.”

Cedric snorted, made an effort to not laugh, then gave up and dissolved into giggles. “Oh, oh Void,” he said. “This makes up for  _ everything _ .”

There were some renewed, muffled thumping and irritable cursing from the crate before it subsided again. “I hate everything.”

Emily managed to make her way to Gerome’s crate, grabbing the braided rope that made up the handle on the top and pulled with little effort. 

The top popped off immediately, revealing a very disgruntled Gerome. “Really, Uncle?” she asked. 

“Not. One. Word.” Gerome squirmed and staggered out of the box to a disconcerting concert of pops and cracks. “...fucksticks,” he said meditively, and lay flat on the floor for a bit. “Never doin’ that again. Ow.”

Emily held out a hand to him. “Come on, we shouldn’t linger.”

Gerome made a plaintive noise, then sighed and let Emily help him to his feet. “ _ Fuck _ , I’m old.”

“You’re young at heart, at least,” Emily offered, slinging an arm around his waist. Gerome grumbled under his breath about “fuckin’ kids these days an’ their fuckin’ sass”. Cedric ambled along behind them, still grinning.

Glancing around the wet and dreary ruin of Addermire’s train station, Emily said, “I thought this place was supposed to be a hospital for the elite? It doesn't look like anyone has been here in months, at least.”

“From what I’ve gathered,” Cedric said, “the Guard shut down Addermire a month or two ago, and no one has been allowed in since. I have heard that Doctor Hypatia has been kept here, whether by her own volition or under duress is anyone’s guess.”

“That's… alarming,” Emily murmured. “So even you two will be treated with hostility. We should stay low. Ced, can you hack our comm units to run on a private channel so we can stay in touch if we need to separate?” 

“Already done,” Cedric said, with a smug look. “It’s channel XQ254.”

Emily pulled hers out of her ear, changing the channel. “Thanks, Ced. Outsider, is there a map to this place that you can access?”

<Working,> it said. There was a pause, then, <All data relevant to Addermire Institute is encrypted or deleted.>

“Apparently,” Emily told them, aggrieved, “All data pertaining to Addermire is encrypted or deleted. Because of course it is.” She sighed, shaking her head. “Alright, plans, thoughts, concerns?”

“Split up and canvas the place?” Cedric suggested. Gerome immediately smacked the back of his head.

“Haven’t you watched a single horror vid? That’s how dumb fucks start dyin’!”

“Then what should we do?” Cedric demanded, rubbing the back of his head. “Addermire is too expansive. It would take us hours to search. Even days if we’re being thorough.”   
“Uncle,” Emily murmured. “He's right. There are at least four floors, and countless guards. You two have Augments, and years of skills, and I have… something. But it makes sense to have each of us take a floor; meet on the fourth once we've combed the place. We have Cedric’s hacked comms, it's not like we won't be in contact.”

“Fine,” Gerome grumbled. “But when one of us gets dragged, screamin’ into a fuckin’ murder room by a woman made of rats, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Emily eyed him. “That is oddly, and terrifyingly specific.”

Gerome rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine. I saw Attack of  The Rat Woman at an impressionable age.”

Cedric gave him a skeptical look. “You had an impressionable age?”

“Cedric,” Emily interrupted before they could get going again. “You take the third floor. I'll get the second, Uncle, you take the first. Meet on the fourth in… two hours?”

“Got it.”   
“Stay safe, little sister. Watch out for Rat Wom- OW!”

Emily broke away from Gerome. “See you too soon. Be safe.”

Gerome smirked and flicked a salute, then he and Cedric Dashed off.

Emily sighed again. “Alright. Let's get up to the second floor,” she said, more or less to herself. She moved up the stairs toward the main entrance, catching sight of Gerome briefly before he disappeared into the shadows.

She had to give Daud credit, he'd trained them well; she came across two unconscious bodies before even leaving the main foyer. The stairs to the second floor were abandoned as well, though Emily paused at the top in order to activate her powered gaze. 

There was someone just ahead of her, slumped over in a chair, and Emily crept up to it, she realized the guard was asleep in one of the comfortable chairs. 

Moving behind it, Emily yanked him into a chokehold, ensuring that he stayed asleep. 

To the immediate left was a set of double doors that were locked with an old fashioned key. “Ugh,” Emily muttered in disgust. “Seriously?”

The other side of the waiting room had a similar set of double doors but when Emily pushed on them, they opened with an eerie creak. “Attack of the Insane Rat woman is starting to sound plausible,” she murmured.

Emily slipped through the doors and found herself in what seemed to be a long series of abandoned offices.

Each room had been abandoned months ago, judging by the dust on some of the awards, shelving and various other knick-knacks found in them. 

She looted the desks, pocketing change and a few spare elixirs, including one that was a strange, luminous blue color. She slipped that in with the others, being careful to wrap the vials with cloth to keep them from clinking. “Other than that one guard, there haven't been any  _ people _ . Is that not completely unsettling?” She asked the Outsider. “Is there a ‘Net you can connect to in here?”

<The 'Net has been completely disconnected. As for the people, Mister Hallsworth said Addermire Institute has not allowed any patients in months.>

“But what about nurses, doctors, orderlies? These doctors didn't take any of their things with them, it's all still here.” Emily scratched the back of her neck. “It stands to reason that if they weren't fired or… dismissed, then they'd still be here. But we've only seen the Guard. So… where are they?”

“Oh, Void,” Cedric muttered into the comms. “I found - ergh - I found a  _ lot _ of corpses up here. Oh, this is just  _ unsanitary,” _ he added in the tones of the deeply disapproving.

“What did I fuckin’say?!” Gerome demanded. “Murder room. Now Munchkin is gonna be eaten by cannibals.”

“If I get eaten by cannibals, I promise to tell you you were right with my dying breath, old man.” For someone apparently standing in a room full of the dead, Cedric sounded remarkably calm. Emily supposed it was the Whaler training.

“Well, that answers my question,” she said. “Ced, sit tight, I'll be right there. There's nothing else I can do down here anyway.”

“Alright,” Cedric answered. “I'll just stand here in the murder room,  _ not _ getting devoured alive.”

“Watch out none a’ them try to grab your ankle.”

“Nothing is going to grab your ankle,” Emily said. “Seriously Uncle, I'm limiting your horror vid intake when this is all over.” She slipped out the door, closing it behind her and heading for the stairs to the third floor.

“Don't you da-” Gerome cut off suddenly.

Alarmed, Emily froze on the stairs. “Uncle?” When there was no immediate answer, Emily swallowed down panic. “Uncle? Gerome, I swear to all you hold dear if this is a joke I will kill you myself.”

“-Ow! Fuck.” Gerome's voice crackled back over the line, making Emily sag in relief.

“What happened?” she demanded. 

“I'm fine. Made some new frien-” Gerome broke off coughing and spitting. “Didja have to stick your fuckin’ _ tongue  _ in my fuckin’  _ mouth _ , you little shit? Fuck, what was the word for 'down’?”

“... Uncle?” Emily asked. “What the hell?”

“I second that,” Cedric said.

“Dogs,” Gerome said, which explained nothing. “Three of 'em.”

Emily rolled her eyes. Of course Gerome would walk into a hospital and find dogs. “Don't get eaten,” she said. “I'll be right there, Ced.” She jogged up the stairs, seeing immediately where Cedric was. 

To the left was an office, where several people in guards uniforms laid haphazardly, puddles of dried blood underneath them. “This is a lab,” Emily said in surprise. “Find anything interesting other than the bodies, Ced?”

“And a lack of terrible horror vid clichés? There's a man locked up. Sounds like he's seen something. He's guarded though. There was a private lab at the end of the big one, if you're curious.”

“You take care of the guards, I'll take care of the private lab?” Emily asked, glancing at him.

“Sure. Watch out for rat cannibals,” he said with a wink. He pulled out a hypo and stalked down the hallway.

Emily eyed the door, Reaching out for it and coming to an abrupt halt. “Why,” She asked the world at large, “Are all these doors locked with old fashioned keys?”

Giving up on the door, Emily Reached out and caught up to Cedric, appearing just behind him as he incapacitated a twitchy Guard. 

“Most of these doors have old fashioned locks,” Emily said, delighting in Cedric’s startled jump. “Nothing to hack.”

He sighed. “I was hoping for  _ some _ .” He tapped his comm. “Gerome, we need your old man skills.”

“Oh no,” Gerome said, mocking. “Your fancy nerd skill not work on somethin’? Do you need to sit down? Still on the third floor?”

“Go fuck yourself, and yes, we are.”

Emily looked through the glass paneling on the door the guard had been standing next to. “I'm going to check it out,” she murmured. 

Cedric eyed the man on the other side. “Don't get eaten.”

There was an irritated noise from Gerome.

She pushed open the door but the man didn't even react. His head was buried in his hands as he rocked back and forth. Emily knelt in front of him, looking him over. He didn't seem injured. 

“Sir?” she asked.

His head snapped up, and he stared at her, eyes wild. “I saw it!” he whispered. “I saw it, it was  _ real, _ it was  _ there. _ ”

“Where?” Emily asked. 

The man pointed toward this stairs, his hands shaking. “Down there. I-in recuperation. I was cleaning,  _ it saw me _ . I'm next!”

Emily frowned, looking down toward the stairs. “You're safe enough here, Sir.”

He shook his head rapidly. “They took my things. My key. Can't use HoloLocks, it'll get through. Go to my room. You'll see! You'll  _ see _ !”

He descended into gibberish, and Emily stood up, seeing a small box with a pistol, a golden key, and a vial of the strange blue elixir. “Ced, do you have any idea what this stuff is?”

He peered around her. “I think it's that nanite cocktail Doctor Hypatia made to repair damage to miners’ lungs. I was told it's also a stimulant.”

“Interesting,” Emily said. She handed it to him. “You take one, just in case.”

Cedric eyed it dubiously. “How about we give it to Gerome,” he suggested. “so if he keels over, it won't be a major loss.”

“All I get is fuckin’ sass from you pups,” Gerome said, striding into the room. At his heels were three Abbey wolfhounds. Cedric yelped and ducked behind Emily. 

“Oh my  _ God,  _ Uncle.” Emily thrust the blue elixir at Gerome. “Take this. We need to head to the fourth floor. That's where that man's office is. Then, we have to find a way into Recuperation. And that lab over there.”

“What?” Gerome asked, all innocence. “They followed me home. I'm namin’ one Outsider.”

<Please don't.>

Emily grinned. “I agree. That one looks like an Outsider,” she said, stroking a wolfhound between its ears. 

Gerome grinned. “So which door first?” He asked, pulling his lockpicks out of one of his pockets.

“Lab,” Emily said. “Here.” She tossed Cedric the key to the Janitor's rooms. “Stop staring at the dogs like they're going to eat you. Want to go to the fourth floor and see what you can scout out?”

He snatched the key out of the air and gave Emily a grateful look. “I can do that.” Giving the milling dogs one last wary look, he Dashed off. One of the wolfhounds startled at the sudden movement and started barking.

“ _ Pfui _ ,” Gerome snapped. The dog fell silent immediately and looked at him. He slid Emily a look that was half-proud, half-embarrassed. “Listened in on a few Overseer commands,” he explained. “I'll tell you 'em later.”

“I'm impressed, Uncle,” she said. “Door’s over here.”

Gerome crouched down in front of the keyhole and shoved a dog nose out of the way. He peered into it for a second, then selected his picks and got to work. After a second he made a disappointed noise and the lock clicked open.

“Fuckin’ child's play,” he said holding the door open for her. “ _ Zoestan _ ,” he told the dogs, who stopped outside the room.

Emily walked into the room, though anything useful was mostly gone already. In the center of the room stood a large old fashioned safe, one with a dial. Her father used one to keep special information in, but Emily had no way of knowing how to crack something like that without tech.

“Can you break into a safe?” she wondered, twisting to look at Gerome.

He looked over the safe and shook his head. “Nah,” he said. “Never got boxman trainin’.”

Emily made a face. “Guess we'll have to find the code. There's another door in here though. Looks like a tech lab, I can see a lot of things I recognize from Anton’s old lab in there.”

“Yep,” Gerome said giving the other door the same treatment as the first. “Smart asshole shit.”

Once the door was open, Emily looked in, resting one hand on Gerome’s shoulder. “Pretty much,” she agreed. “There's a lot of nanite infusers in here, though. That's… a little concerning.”

Gerome shrugged. “'S all over my head.”

“Mine too,” Emily said. “This is useless to us. Might as well meet Ced on the fourth floor.” 

Gerome nodded and held the door open for her. “ _ Foos _ ,” he said to the dogs, who immediately gathered around him. “That means c’mere,” he explained.

“I think that they’re yours for life, Uncle,” Emily said dryly. “They might listen if I yelled it, but they follow you with their eyes. Foster might murder you.”

Gerome grinned. “She can fuckin’ try.”

“Please do not attempt to kill the captain of a ship no one else knows how to drive,” Emily said, scowling at him. 

“I make no promises,” Gerome teased, patting one of the dogs.

Emily pushed him lightly. “I swear to god,” she muttered. “You’re supposed to be the adult here, Uncle!” 

Gerome shoved her back. “I am a fuckin’ adult.”

“Could have fooled me,” she shot back, and Reached out for the top of the stairs, disappearing before he could retaliate. “Keep up, Uncle! Too slow,” she sing-songed, and Reached for the next landing. 

There was a flurry of cursing behind her.  Gerome sprinted up the stairs, three sets of claws clicking behind him.

“Brat,” he said, panting.

Emily lifted her eyebrow at him, before turning to locate Cedric. She could see the snoring form of a guard captain tucked up around the back of a desk but there was no sign of the hacker. “Hey Ced…?” she called. “You alright?” 

“One minute,” Cedric said, distractedly.

Following the sound of his voice, Emily moved into the large office immediately ahead of them. It was half administrative, half lab, and filled with dying flowers and other plant life. Hypatia’s name placard was on the floor, it had clearly been removed from the door. 

Cedric was behind a terminal so Emily left him to it, instead wandering around the room and looking for anything that might be a key or those strange blue elixirs. There was an entire case of the stuff, tucked up under a bench, and once she turned around, the key was obviously hanging on a hook by the door.  

“Hey, Em,” Cedric called, not looking up from his search. “I think you should read this.”

She hurried over to his side, leaning her chin on the top of his head to read over what he’d found on the terminal. 

Most of the notes he was scrolling through were medical or technical, but he’d stopped on one that made all of Emily’s limbs get very cold. “She was losing time,” she murmured. “Hasn’t left in months, she thinks, can’t remember the last time she helped the miners, her plants are dying - we need to get down to recuperation last week.” 

“I think you’re right,” Cedric said. “Everything I’ve read and heard about her never mentioned any sort of condition.”

“That locked lab, downstairs? It was full of nanite tech. Something bad might have happened.” Emily held the key up. “But the key was right there, hanging up in her office. Why would she lock herself into recuperation? Are the guards even  _ feeding _ her? Void, what are we going to find when we get down there?”

“If she locked herself in,” Cedric said, looking uncomfortable, “then her key wouldn’t be in here. I think someone else did the locking.”

“Fuckin’ murder hospital,” Gerome muttered. “Didn’t I say it? I fuckin’ knew this was the settin’ for a horror vid. An’ we’re the dumbasses who strolled right in.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “We can’t leave the creepy murder hospital until we either A) Find Anton, B) Find Hypatia, or C) Figure out who the Crown Killer is. Let’s get to recuperation.” She shooed Cedric away from the terminal and out the door. 

Gerome followed at an amble, keeping an eye on ceilings and shelves. “Yeah, that’s how it all starts,” he muttered.

“Uncle!” Emily said exasperated. “I really am going to ban you from horror vids when we get home. Father will back me up.” 

Gerome flinched and an awkward silence fell.

Emily stopped so fast she almost tripped down the stairs, saved only by quick reflexes and a little magic. She turned, eyes wide to stare up at Gerome. “I forgot,” she said, “I forgot he was… It just… I’m  _ sorry _ , Uncle,” she murmured, covering her mouth with her hand. 

“Nothin’ to be sorry about,” Gerome said gruffly, patting her awkwardly on the shoulder. “It happens from time to time. Wishful thinkin’, I guess.”

“I just… keep expecting him to call on the comm system, to yell at me for running along the rooftops, or for drinking strange things that haven’t been tested yet,” she murmured, feeling that hollow place in her chest where her father lived get a little wider. “Let’s just… go.” She turned, Reaching out and stepping into the waiting room by recuperation, leaving Gerome and Cedric two flights up.

She unlocked the doors to recuperation, pushing them open. “Son of a  _ fuck _ ,” she swore, stumbling back several steps. 

“What?” Gerome said, catching up. “And watch your fuckin’ language!”

“Bloodflies. A metric fuckton of bloodflies,” Emily answered. 

“Huh. Wow. Hang on, lemme get the dogs to stay the fuck outside.”

Emily nodded, and crept into the room, finding the corpse of a dead doctor almost immediately inside. Hooked to his belt and laying next to his lax hand were two bottles of nanite- infused rum. She collected them, trying to avoid touching his body at all costs. 

She could see other bottles near other corpses further into the room, but… She tilted her head to the side. “There’s something magic in here,” she murmured. 

The strange  _ pull _ directed her toward a nest, of course, so Emily hefted one of the bottles and threw it, watching the fire carefully in case of spread. She did a quick two step around the corpses, and reached into the hollowed out nest, pulling out a bone that dissolved in her hand by the time she finished lifting it. 

“Emily,  _ no _ ,” Cedric moaned. “There could still be larva or something. Put that bone down before you get a horrible disease.”

She turned to show him her empty hands, but the magic under her skin pulsed and flared without warning. Black matter, wispy and nearly transparent, shot out of her hands, burying the lead in Cedric’s narrow chest. He didn’t even seem to notice, staring at her with blank eyes and a hollow expression. “What the fuck,” Emily said.

“What the fuck,” Cedric repeated in the same tone. 

Gerome stared. “Emily what the fuck did you do to him.”

Panicking, Emily shook her head rapidly, horror growing as Cedric mimicked her. “I don’t know, I just turned and around and Uncle, what do I do?”

“I don’t know, I just turned around and Uncle, what do I do?” Cedric asked, copying her tone exactly. 

“See, this is why I don’t trust all this magic shit,” Gerome snapped. He shook Ceric roughly, but Cedric’s head just wobbled alarmingly without any sign of breaking his trance. “Fuck, kid. Turn it off!”

“I don’t know how!” Emily said with rising hysteria that only got worse when Cedric just kept repeating her. 

She fixed her eyes on the chair out in the waiting room, past Gerome and the dogs, and Reached. She stumbled straight into it, nearly knocking it over, but when she looked down, the black tendrils were gone from her hands, and Cedric was blinking at them in confusion.

“Gerome? Em? Why are you both looking at me like that?”

“Fuckin’ Void,” Gerome breathed and pulled Cedric into a hug. He just peered at Emily quizzically from around Gerome’s shoulder.

Emily shoved her hands her in her pockets, slinking up to them before hugging him too, sandwiching him between herself and Gerome. “Sorry, big brother,” she murmured into his hair. 

“I am so confused right now,” he said.

“I picked up a… I don’t what it is. One of those magic bones,” Emily said, tightening her grip on him. “It gave me a new power - I could. I don’t know. I reached out and was controlling you. You just repeated everything I said and didn’t react to anything else at all, it was terrifying. I’m so sorry.”

“Did you mean to do it?”

She pulled back to look at him. “Of course not!”

Cedric smiled and ruffled her hair. “Then it’s fine,” he said. “No harm done. Just don’t do it again, and we’re fine.”

“Oughta ground you both to your rooms for nearly givin’ me a heart attack,” Gerome grumbled, digging his chin into Cedric’s head. Cedric yelped and squirmed out from between them, patting at his head.

Emily looked down at her hands again before handing over the bottle of rum she’d hooked to her belt. “Here,” she said, a peace offering. “Do what you do best, Uncle.” 

“Drink or set fire to thin’s?” Gerome asked, smirking. Then he tossed it at the nearest nest, grinning as it exploded into flame. “Never gets fuckin’ old.”

“Please do not drink the nanite infused alcohol,” Emily said, Reaching out for the next closest bottle of rum. Instead of traveling toward it though,  _ it _ traveled to  _ her _ .

It flew through the air and smacked into her palm where she caught it on reflex. “... Uh. Here?” she blinked, and handed it over to Gerome. 

“Are you seriously still usin’ those powers?” He demanded, taking the bottle from her. “What if it broke on you, huh? Then you’d be on fire. Don’t fuckin’ light yourself on fire, understand?”

“It was an accident! I was going to land  _ next to it _ , and it just… woosh!” She pantomimed it flying through the air. “I don’t know how to use these things, I’m just sort of taking it as it comes.” Emily pointed to the rum bottle he was holding. “ _ Literally _ !”

“Well,” Gerome said, looking somewhat overwhelmed. “Stop that.” He turned away and threw the bottle at another nest.

Eyeing the next bottle, Emily aimed her Reach just before it, to avoid flying flammable liquor bottles. 

<I don’t recommend this course of action,> the Outsider began, but Emily was already Reaching.

She made it six feet away before her magic failed her, and she hit the floor with a thud. Everything felt slow and sick, and when she sat up from her sprawl, pain burst through her head. She cried out, which only made the pain worse, and she grabbed her temples, curling up, trying to breathe through the waves of agony that were flashing through her.

Blood hit the floor in front of her, and she choked on her next inhalation, as her nose began to bleed profusely. 

“Em!” Cedric dropped to his knees next to her and tried to tilt her head up to get a look at her face. His shout brought Gerome running into the room. Gerome’s eyes fell on the blood and he went white.

“Oh no,” he whispered. “No, no, no, no, no.” He peered into her eyes, wiping a finger frantically underneath them and checking for more blood.

Emily grabbed his wrists, panic and pain making her chest tight. “Uncle,” she choked out around another mouthful of blood, “Uncle, it  _ hurts _ .”

“I know, I know, sweetheart,” he said. She could feel his hands shaking hard on either side of her face. “ _ Get her a fuckin’ elixir!” _ He snapped at Cedric, who jumped and fumbled at his bag. He passed one to Gerome, who let go of her just long enough to unscrew the cap and touch it to her lips.

“Here,” he said, “C’mon, take a drink.”

Tilting her head back enough made the elixir taste like blood but she drank as much as she could in small sips, but the pain in her head didn’t ease. When the elixir was gone, she went to wipe her nose with her sleeve, and fresh blood fountained down her face. “It didn’t work,” she gasped, spitting another mouthful to one side. Her hands were shaking so much she almost missed her nose when she went to pinch it closed, trying to tilt her head back the way Corvo had taught her. 

“Fuck,  _ fuck _ ,” Gerome said, patting himself down for any more vials. He pulled out the blue one Cedric had handed to him and stared at it. “Alright. They wouldn’t have this everywhere if it was fuckin’ poison. Here.” He held it to her lips. “Fuck, I hope this one actually fuckin’ works.”

Emily closed her eyes and drank it. 

It hit her stomach like ice, but spread through her numb limbs like flames, and the pain eased almost immediately. She took the vial from him on her second swallow, and finished it under her own power. The blood slowed, and when she wiped her face again, nothing new came out of her face. 

Gerome searched her face and, seeing no more blood, pulled her into a tight hug, curling around her protectively. He didn’t say a word, just shook and clung to her with a bruising grip.

“Emily? Did it work?” Cedric asked anxiously.

“I… I think so,” she said. She swallowed again, trying to work the taste of blood and ice out of her mouth. “It doesn’t hurt anymore. Or it… hurts less,” she said, opening her eyes. “I have another in my bag but… that was… I’d like to avoid that.”  

“Drink it,” Gerome rasped. “We can find more.”

She fumbled with her bag, pulling it out. She couldn’t twist off the cap, her hands still shaking too much from whatever attack had struck her. 

<That power does not come from nowhere, Emily Kaldwin,> the Outsider said. <Not only did you use up your reserves, but you tried to take what wasn’t even there. It is no wonder you suffered a severe reaction.>

Emily finally got the cap of the vial off, drinking it quickly. “Uncle,” she murmured, tightening her fist in his jacket and tugging lightly. “I’m alright.”

“The  _ fuck _ you are,” he snapped. “I thought- You looked like an Infected!” He tightened his arms around her. “I thought I’d failed,” he whispered brokenly.

Tightening her fist in his clothing, Emily dropped the vial in her free hand and pulled him closer, tucking her head under his chin. This close, she could hear his heart pounding. “I’m alright,” she repeated. “You could  _ never  _ fail me, Uncle.  _ Never _ . I’m okay. Those elixirs helped, and I’m okay. It’s alright, I’m alright.” 

“When we get Sokolov back,” Gerome said, finally loosening his grip. “We’re havin’ him look you over. No arguments.” 

Emily nodded. “Okay, Uncle. I won’t even complain.” She summoned up a smile from somewhere. “At least not much.”

She wiped at her face, clearing away the last of the blood from her nose. When she pushed off of Gerome’s shoulder to stand, she was only a little shaky, which was better than she'd expected. A slow two-step brought her in range of the bottle of rum she'd been aiming for in the first place and she scooped it up. Emily held it out to Gerome as a peace offering. “Here, Uncle.”

Gerome hovered around her, hands out to catch her if her legs gave out. “Thanks,” he said, taking the bottle. “Just… Stay close, alright?”

Emily nodded. “I won't go far. Go throw explosives at bugs, you'll feel better.” 

Gerome eyed the distance between them and the remaining nest. Narrowing his eyes, he leaned back and flung the bottle. It shattered directly on the nest.

“That should be the last of those fuckers,” he said. “An’ look, doors outta here.”

Emily eyed the destroyed room thoughtfully. “You know… I think this just became a rescue mission and not for Anton. Or at least not  _ just _ for Anton.” She gestured at the doors they'd just revealed. “Not only was she locked in, but these guarded the way out? Something is really wrong here.”

“She must have been locked in for a long time,” Cedric said, looking over the nests. “Bloodflies build fast, but this much? Impossible in under at least a week.”

“We need to find Hypatia,” Emily said firmly. “Ced, there was a case of those blue elixirs up in her office, will you grab them for me? We'll wait here for you, then we can fan out and see what we can find inside.”

“Good idea,” Cedric said. “I’ll be quick.” He Dashed off, dead bloodflies and ash swirling in his wake.

Emily waited until she couldn't hear his footsteps anymore before turned back to Gerome and snagging his sleeve in her fist. “... Uncle?” she murmured.

Gerome jumped and spun to look her over. “Yeah? Are you feelin’ bad again? Need me to get you somethin’?”

She shook her head. “No, I'm okay. I feel a little weak still, but I'll drink one of those solutions when Cedric gets back. I just.” She tugged on his sleeve in an unspoken request for him to move closer. “Sorry I scared you.”

“Here, siddown for a sec,” he said, gently shepherding her over to a bed. It creaked alarmingly, but held under their weight. “‘S fine. But I want it on record that I was fuckin’ right about there bein’ a catch,” he joked weakly. 

“Next time, I'll listen,” Emily said, leaning her head on his shoulder. “I know what to look for now, it won't happen again.” She tilted her head up to look him in the face. “Are  _ you _ okay?”

“‘M fine,” he said, waving a hand. “Aside from needin’ a good hot soak after bein’ stuck in that fuckin’ box for so long.”

She laughed softly. “You and me both, Uncle. I'm afraid that the Dreadful Wale won't have the amenities we're accustomed to, though.” 

“How will I fuckin’ survive,” Gerome deadpanned. “Don’t worry ‘bout me, Sparrow. You should’ve seen the place we were livin’ in before the Tower. Half didn’t have a roof, and I had to fish Munchkin outta holes in the floor more than once. At least the ship ain’t got Krusts in the basement.”

“I always worry about you,” Emily said, only half teasing. “Father always told me about your reckless stunts.” She nudged him in the side. 

Gerome spluttered. “ _ He  _ told you about  _ my _ reckless- Oh that asshole.”

“Yup, he told me all about how you jumped into a swarm of infected drones when coming to find me when I was a kid.” She grinned, poking him. “Really, Uncle. No wonder I should worry.”

Gerome looked deeply injured. “That was him! I was busy fightin’ a crazy old bat made of nanites that wanted to eat Slackjaw or somethin’. That fuckin’ asshole.”

“I know you have to defend your honour, but a crazy old woman made of nanites? Come on.” 

“It’s true!” Gerome protested. “Ask P- ask your AI. He was there!”

“Oh really?” Emily said, mostly to the Outsider. 

<I have no idea what Lord Burton is talking about,> it said, <and I am concerned about his mental health. You should ask him if old age is affecting his memory.>

Emily snorted, stifling her laugh under her hand. “Um, it says that it has no idea what you're talking about, Lord Burton, and it's very concerned about your mental health. It also wants to know if your age is affecting your memory?”

Gerome growled. “Tell him: I fuckin’ hate you, you fuckin’ spambot. I hope you get fuckin’ malware.”

<Now that’s not very nice,> the Outsider teased.

“That's not very nice,” Emily repeated, grinning. 

“Wasn’t meant to be,” Gerome retorted sullenly.

Emily leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Aw, Uncle. It's okay, I'll make sure to keep an eye out. No more reckless actions, yours or mine.” 

“ _ I ain’t _ \- No, you know what? I’ll fuckin’ take it.” Gerome pulled a face that, were it on a younger man, would be called a pout.

“Don't sulk, Uncle. A man of your station shouldn't sulk,” she said, grin widening.

“I ain’t fuckin’ sulkin’,” Gerome protested. “I’m broodin’. Sounds more sexy.” He winked at her.

She barked a laugh. “How's that working for you?” she asked him. 

“Well,” he drawled, tipping his head to grin at her. “Mindy sure liked it.”

Emily shoved him off the bed. “Ugh, Uncle,  _ no _ .”

Gerome mock-leered and bumped her shoulder. “Aw, c’mon. You said you wanted to learn how to seduce a lady. Y’should be takin’ notes.”

“I somehow doubt that brooding will look half as rakish on me,” Emily said dryly. “And since Wyman has never complained, I think I'm set.”

Gerome grimaced. “Ugh, Sparrow,  _ no. _ ”

Emily grinned. “You started it, I finished it.”

“But at the cost of my delicate fuckin’ sensibilities.”

“Oh, well, in  _ that _ case, you delicate, precious flower,” Emily said, rolling her eyes. Gerome bat his eyelashes at her and simpered like a highborn lady. “Ugh, go turn that face on Miss Blanchard.”

Gerome looked thoughtful. “Nah, I think she’d just stab me if I did.”

“Probably.” She stood up, stretching slightly. “I wouldn't blame her, really.”

“Aw, Sparrow,” Gerome said, clutching his chest. “I’m wounded. Deep in my heart. I think I’d make a great society lady.”

She laughed again. “You can wear the corset then. Want to trade?”

Gerome stood and struck a pose. “I’d be delighted,” he said, affecting an upper class accent.

In that moment, Cedric reappeared. He faltered when he caught sight of Gerome, posing with his hips cocked and fluttering an imaginary fan.

“Uh,” he said, looking from Emily to Gerome and back. “What did I miss?”

“Uncle pretending to be a highborn lady,” Emily said dryly. “He thinks it’ll get him in good with the ladies.” 

Cedric snorted, then looked contemplative. “Actually…”

“Munchkin, no.”

Cedric grinned. “But Lady Amalia was so taken with your rustic charm, old man. And I’ve heard she has…  _ unique _ tastes.”

Emily winced. “Uncle, no. Don’t ask, don’t think about it. Just… no.” She pulled a face, thinking of the last time her father had forced her to go to one of Lady Amalia’s high teas, and the sort of… conversation that had come up over the sugar bowl. “She’s… an odd duck,” Emily added. “Best you don’t hear more.” 

Gerome scratched at his jaw. “Yeah, probably not. Now, Munchkin’s got your elixirs. Stock up. We don’t want this to happen again.”

Emily made grabbing motions at Cedric, making sure to keep her magic as far away from the action as physically possible. “Thank you, Ced,” she said, and dumped out her bag to make room for the seven elixirs he’d brought her. 

“Are you sure you should keep going?” Cedric asked, concerned. “We can rest a bit longer.”

Storing six of the elixirs away and sipping slowly at the seventh, Emily nodded. “I feel much better,” she said. “I’ll be careful and as long as I don’t have to do anything too acrobatic with the magic, I think I should be okay.” She finished the solution and tossed the empty glass vial onto the bed. “Thank you again, Ced,” she said, standing to give him a quick hug. “Now. To deal with Dr. Hypatia.” 

She made her way through the broken tiles and overturned beds, avoiding the husks of burned blood fly nests. The door at the other end of the room was covered in scratch marks, as though someone had tried to claw their way in. Emily traced them with her fingers, noting that while her hand fit the shape of the grooves, whatever had made the marks had claws like no human finger nails. 

“Well,” she said in tones of failing optimism. “Creepy rat woman is looking more and more likely, Uncle.” 

“I’m always fuckin’ right,” Gerome said, though he sounded grim. “Stay sharp, Sparrow.”

Nodding sharply, Emily pushed the door open and stepped into the small hallway that led to the offices and labs in Recuperation. The smell of rot immediately assailed her, and she choked, covering her mouth with one hand. The hallway was spattered in blood, dripping in red trails down the walls like a warning. 

_ THE CROWN KILLER IS WATCHING _ was scrawled on the tiled floor in rust-brown stain, and Emily took a shallow breath through her mouth. There were stairs going up immediately to their left, and she gestured to them. “Ced, you take the high ground,” she said. “Uncle, I’ll take point, for now. Walk soft.”

Cedric jerked himself out of his horrified evaluation of the bloodstains and nodded. He vanished silently upstairs.

Gerome stepped up behind her and drew his knives.

Together, they moved into the first office, following the trail of blood. Through the blinds that covered the large windows, she could see a woman in the lab, head bent over some work, but Emily just kept her in sight, exploring the office. It was covered in more blood, the walls splashed with it - but worse was the pool that had accumulated by the door exiting the room. Someone had fallen there, and if they’d gotten up, it wouldn’t have been under their own power.

The pool of blood smeared under the door, and Emily opened that too, stepping into what must be Hypatia’s office. There’s a blood spattered painting of her, but it’s not Sokolov’s work - Emily frowned at it. “Uncle,” she murmured. “Do you recognize the artist?” 

Gerome stood in front of the frame, frowning. “That ain’t a Sokolov, though it’s got some similarities. Colour choice is interestin’, but…” He trailed off, crinkling his nose. “They got all the basics down, all the theory, but there ain’t any  _ soul _ to their work. All passion an’ no direction. They got talent, but they ain’t realising it. Ain’t one of the Greats, an’ ain’t any up-an’-comers I know of.”

“Hm. Take it with us? Might be able to sell it at the Black Market,” Emily suggested. 

Gerome used his knife to cut the painting from the frame, carefully rolling it up and sticking it in his coat. “Probably ain’t worth all that much,” he warned. “‘S enough to make someone like your dad think it’s good, but it’s really just some fuckin’ hobbyist paintin’.”

“Gods forbid,” Emily said dryly. She turned her attention to the rest of the room, and stopped short, her back to Gerome and the painting. The body from the other room had been laid out on a cot, a white sheet tossed over it. 

Emily reached out and twitched it back, seeing a man, covered in bandages. “Poor sod,” she murmured, then yelped as the corpse grabbed her wrist. 

Immediately, Gerome’s knife was at the man’s throat. “ _ Let her go,” _ he snarled.

Emily wrenched her hand away, realizing now that the man wasn’t a corpse at all - he was connected to a life support system but undeniably alive. “What happened to you?” she breathed.

The man coughed, his hand falling limply on the bed. He didn’t react nor seem even to notice the knife at his throat. “You’re in grave danger,” he rasped out. “My name… is Dr. Vasco. You have to… be careful. Hypatia… she doesn’t know what she’s doing. My - my lab, on the third floor. There’s… a safe. The code is 831.” 

Exchanging a look with Gerome, Emily asked, “... what’s in the safe?”

“A cure,” Vasco breathed, then went limp. 

Emily checked his pulse and found it thready but obvious and she did a quick two step back in case he grabbed her again. “A cure for what?” she wondered. 

They exited the room, walking out into the lab. The woman at the table was still hunched over, cutting into something that made a wet squishing sound. Emily held out a hand to Gerome. “Do you want to head up to the third floor and see what this cure nonsense is about?” she asked, eyes still on the woman. 

“Fuck, no,” Gerome growled. “I’m your fuckin’ guardian. I’d be a shit one if I left you alone with her. Get Munchkin to do it. He’s faster.”

Emily, amused, rolled her eyes. She tapped the comm unit in her ear. “Hey Ced, I need you to get back to the third floor and find out what’s in Dr. Vasco’s safe, the code is 831. Bring us whatever it is, I’m about to go talk to Hypatia.”

The comm clicked twice, Whaler sign for “affirmative”. Cedric was apparently within earshot of Hypatia.

Taking a deep breath, Emily stepped out into the lab. “Doctor?” she called, a few feet away from Hypatia. 

The woman turned, and Emily gasped in shock. The woman was definitely Hypatia, but only bore a passing resemblance to her. She was stooped, her upper arms wrapped in a strange metal augment that seemed too heavy for her frame. Her left eye was her own, but her right had been replaced by a mechanical monstrosity. Most of her face had been left untouched, but through rips and rends in her labcoat and clothing, Emily could see that her body had the LED glow of other augments. When Hypatia stepped forward, she lurched awkwardly, and Emily caught her by the arm, realizing too late that her legs were no longer human, but reticulated. 

“Doctor Hypatia?” Emily asked again, stepping back when Hypatia seemed steady. 

“Yes… That’s my name…” she said, her voice breathy and quiet. “I am Doctor Hypatia. Are you a… patient? I’m sorry, I don’t… remember. Is that why you’re covering your face?”

She reached out, and Emily caught her hands gently, pulling them away from the scarf around her. “Dr. Hypatia, I’m looking for Anton Sokolov. Do you remember him? I heard he was here.”

Hypatia frowned, tilting her head to the side. “Do you hear that?” she asked, instead of answering.

Emily glanced over her shoulder at where Gerome was hiding in the shadows. “Doctor, do you know where Sokolov is?”

“Sokolov…?” Hypatia repeated. “I remember him. He was a great man, a great scientist. Cruel though. Never helped enough at the Academy.” She shook her head slowly. “She came and took him. Jindosh needed him for an experiment, so she took him away.”

Emily took another step back. “Who is she?” 

Hypatia seemed to bow in on herself, hands and arms shaking. “You don’t hear that? Hear her? She’s coming, no, no nono please, not my patients, you promised not my patients,” she moaned, entire body collapsing inward. 

She crouched, rocking back and forth, then jerked awkwardly, limbs flailing. She jerked again, and when Hypatia looked up at Emily, pleading clearly on her face, she whispered, “Run.”

Emily wasted no time. She Reached for Gerome, landing just in front of him, and grabbed him around the waist, twisting for sight lines before Reaching for the door closest to the exit. 

She stumbled a little once they got there, and Gerome’s balance was worse but she dragged him through the door just in time for Hypatia to stand, snarling. “-- Is she?!” Not-Hypatia snarled. “ _ Where is she, you useless sack of flesh _ !” 

Emily closed the door quietly, and leaned against it. “What the hell was that?!” she hissed, darting towards the room with the bloodfly nests, putting two doors between her and Not-Hypatia. “What just happened?!”

“That’s what I wanna fuckin’ know,” Gerome snapped, over the Outsider frantically muttering, <Multiple personalities? No, this is something else,> the Outsider sounded appalled. <They couldn’t have tried to replicate what I’ve done? There were rumours of attempted AI implantation, but the results…>

Emily rubbed her ear a little. “Outsider, is it… is  _ possible _ ? Is this - was  _ that _ , the results of human-AI experimentation? Could… Hypatia be the Crown Killer, but instead… instead of it being herself, it’s her AI?” 

<I don’t know,> it said, frustrated. <This is unprecedented! AI creation is a delicate process - you’re creating a mind, for Void’s sake. This Crown Killer could very well be the AI, but it’s all wrong! What did they do to it? What has it done to itself?!>

“In all the press for Hypatia, she never had those augments, did she?” Emily asked quietly. This time it was Gerome that answered.

“Trust me, Sparrow, those are fuckin’ new, and just as illegal. Y’see how some of those were? They’re fuckin’ hunter-killer augs. Normal chicks, even docs like her, can’t get those.”

“So if… If Hypatia has specialized augments, and she could barely walk. What if… what if the AI is doing it to her?” Emily asked, horrified. She didn’t give the Outsider or Gerome a chance to speak, slamming her hand onto her comm unit. “Cedric, report!” she said. 

“There were some instructions on finishing this ‘cure’. I’m just finishing them,” Cedric reported, sounding startled. “Uh, ETA in… five minutes.”

“What does the cure do?” Emily demanded.

“Apparently it kills the AI through…” Cedric trailed off, the spoke up again, sounding like he was reading something off of a page. “Focussed, nanite-directed attacks on key points of an AI’s attachment to subject’s neural network to sever and thus destroy the infestation.”

There was a wave of horror from the AI that was inhabiting her own neural network. <How long has that been a possibility? They could have targeted Corvo and I!>

“Cedric,” Emily asked through numb lips. “How old is this cure? When did they create it, do you know?”

“Uh, it looks like Vasco got the idea from somewhere,” he said, “but he’s the one who refined it into something viable, I think.”

<Tell him to destroy the notes! They’re a risk to the both of us.>

Emily flinched, rubbing her ear again. “Once you’re done, take everything with you,” she said. “The cure, the notes, anything that could be traced back to Vasco, and this situation.”

<What are you planning?>

She turned off the comm unit and said, “We need to know if Vasco created this because of Hypatia’s rogue AI, or if it was about you and my father,” she said to the Outsider. “Once everything calmed down after Havelock, and you took over the Tower Network, the fact that you were a ‘shackled’ AI was a well known thing - if they were tasked in destroying  _ you _ , we need to know. If Vasco was trying to help his boss, Hypatia, then I’d rather we have the notes in case someone else tries something similar.”

<...Your logic is sound,> it said, grudgingly.

“So what’s goin’ on?” Gerome demanded, shifting impatiently. “There some new shit we gotta look out for?”

“It’s an AI,” Emily said quickly. “Vasco was trying to come up with a cure to break down their connection - it would kill the AI. Cedric is finishing the solution now, and going to bring it to us. Then, we’ll… have to somehow get it into Hypatia,” she said. 

“I distract her, you stab her,” Gerome said, simply. “Once we’re done, though, we gotta find out how the fuck it got into her.”

“Yes,” Emily agreed. “Outsider, are you alright? You’ve been… emotive,” she said, uncomfortably. 

<I apologise. I am… unsettled by this AI,> it admitted. <These practices are unethical and unsound.>

“I agree with you,” she said, eyes on the door. She reached out with her magic, twisting her eyesight to see through walls. Very vaguely, she could see Not-Hypatia pacing back and forth in the lab, her movements strange and lopsided. “Cedric should be here soon,” she added to Gerome. “Three minutes, just under.”

“Good,” he grunted, standing between her and the door. He’d put one of his knives away and was now holding a pistol in his right hand, a knife in his left, focussed on the door.

“Uncle, be careful,” she said. “I’ll be as fast as I can, but please, don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

“Who, me?” Gerome turned his head enough to grin at her.

She rolled her eyes. “Yes you,” she said. “Please don’t try to, I don’t know, seduce the crazy doctor.” 

Gerome snorted, choked and burst out laughing. He clearly tried to keep it silent, but the result was some truly impressive faces.

“Holy fuck,” he wheezed, holding his ribs. “Nah, you’d-” he made a strangled noise, and his next words came out an octave higher. “You’d want Thomas for that.” Gerome bent double, choking on his laughter.

Emily wrinkled her nose. “Thomas’ tastes are too discerning for that,” she said. “We’ve discussed it at length.” 

Gerome’s laughter subsided. “Yeah, he’s picky,” he agreed, straightening and resuming his guard duty. “You’ve talked it over with him, huh?”

Emily shrugged one shoulder, eyes still on Hypatia’s lurching form. “Sure, of course,” she answered. “He was a very non-judgemental person to go to when you’re fourteen and think you like girls. Or when you’re twenty and you meet someone who is… not like other people.” She shrugged. “He was helpful.”

Gerome sent her a warm smile. “He’s alright, for an uptight fuckin’ prick,” he said affectionately. “Glad you were able to talk to him.”

“He’s not that uptight,” Emily defended. 

“He’s always tellin’ me to fix my fuckin’ tie, or put on nicer clothes!”

Emily glanced at him, raising an eyebrow at his loosened tie and the obvious hole in his jacket. “Thomas has an overdeveloped sense of style,” she agreed. “But he’s definitely not uptight. He can tell you stories that would make even you blush, Uncle.”

Gerome rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know about his background.” He paused as a thought seemed to occur to him. “He, uh, didn’t teach you any, uh,  _ dance _ moves, did he?”

Emily smirked. “Wouldn’t  _ you _ like to know.”

Gerome pulled a face. “No I fuckin’ would not!”

She chuckled, turning back to watch Hypatia’s circuit around the lab. “He took me to one of his favorite clubs when I was eighteen,” she said, just to watch Gerome squirm. “It became a tradition - Thom takes Wyman and I out every year now on their birthday. It’s a lot of fun.”

“I will fuckin’ go through that door, Emily Drexel Lela. Don’t fuckin’ test me.”

“And that is why we didn’t tell you,” Emily said.

“There’s tellin’ me, an’ then there’s  _ tellin’ _ me. You just crossed the fuckin’ line, Sparrow.” Gerome looked pained.

“Now you know how I feel,” she said. “I love Thom dearly, and I enjoyed every minute of going out and dancing with him. But there are just some things a girl doesn’t need to know.” 

Gerome squinted at her over his shoulder. “I’m fuckin’ curious, but I’m also pretty fuckin’ sure  _ I _ don’t wanna know either.”

Emily pulled a face. “Suffice to say, I didn’t need to know how Thomas spent his Fugues - or better yet, with  _ whom _ .”

Gerome looked like he was going to ask further, then shook his head. “Some thin’s a man’s not meant to know,” he said, philosophically. 

Privately, Emily agreed, and she turned just in time to watch Cedric fly into the room, his leg augments blurring with use. 

“Here,” he panted. “Hypo’s filled with the solution, and I downloaded and erased all of Vasco’s notes.”

Emily stuck the datastick into her pocket, making sure it was secure. “Thanks,” she said. “Ced, you take the high ground, be ready to come to Gerome’s rescue if need be. Uncle, don’t get grabbed. Keep her back to me.”

“I won’t. I got some experience with this sorta thin’.” He walked over to the door, put a hand on the handle, and said, “Ready?”

She flexed her hand around the strange syringe, getting a feel for it. “Yeah, ready,” she said. 

Gerome nodded, slammed open the doors and darted through. As soon as the way was clear, Cedric Dashed past, heading up the stairs again. Emily crept along behind Gerome, staying to the shadows and out of Not-Hypatia’s line of sight. 

Gerome fired his pistol, deliberately missing her head. “Lookin’ for someone, you worthless fuckin’ spambot with legs?”

Not-Hypatia whirled around, far too graceful for someone on reticulated knees, and rushed him. As she leapt for him, claws burst out of her hands, and she swiped at his face, snarling. “You’re not a patient!” she hissed. “You can be the next test subject!”

“That’s a terrible fuckin’ idea,” Gerome quipped, dancing out of the way. “I’m fuckin’ terrible at tests.”

Emily Reached up and landed on the rafters above their heads, watching carefully for not-Hypatia to walk under her. Not-Hypatia was moving fast, some of her augments audibly whirring in protest. Gerome was immediately on the defensive, deflecting and dodging. Emily watched, as one of Not-Hypatia’s blows knocked a table across the room. Gerome swore and rolled out of the way, narrowly avoiding another swipe with those claws.

Not-Hypatia backed up to lunge again and Emily leapt. 

She dropped off the rafter, landing on Not-Hypatia’s back, jamming the hypo inelegantly into her neck. They went to the floor together, but Not-Hypatia was no longer fighting Emily or Gerome - she was twisting in on herself, hissing and spitting. “No!” she screeched, back bowing at a painful angle. “Not like this!”

“Fuck,” Gerome said, sidling closer.

Emily backed away, grabbing Gerome’s hand. “... Doctor?” she asked, as Hypatia shuddered and was still. “Hypatia?”

Hypatia shook a little as she sat up. “Yes…” she said distantly, “that is my name, isn’t it? Hypatia. I’d forgotten.” She looked down at her hands, still sporting claws. “But these aren’t my hands. My legs. Am I Hypatia still?” 

Moving closer, Emily knelt in front of her. “You’re still Hypatia,” she said soothingly. “You still care about your patients, the miners. Helping people - don’t you?”

“Yes of course,” Hypatia said, with more conviction than she’d started with. “They need me.”

Emily nodded. “Of course. But it’s not safe for you here right now, is it? Your patients are gone. Why don’t you come with us? We have space, and a boat where you can rest and heal.”

“... Rest and heal, yes of course. After augmentation, subjects require plenty of rest and fluids to keep from having reactions or rejections.” She looked up at Emily, her one human eye empty and bleak. “I don’t think I’ve rested much at all lately.” 

“No,” Emily agreed gently. “Can my Uncle I and help you up, Doctor?”

Hypatia looked over Emily’s shoulder, then back to Emily. “I… don’t even know who you are.”

Emily tugged her scarf down. “Yes, you do,” she said. “Come on, Doctor. We need to get out of here.”

Hypatia blinked at her before nodding slowly. “I don’t… believe I can walk, Empress,” she said, looking down at her legs.

“Uncle?” Emily prompted.

Gerome eyed her augmentations, then nodded, “Sorry ‘bout this,” he said, then pulled her into a fireman’s carry. “Easiest way to balance the weight,” he grunted, sagging a little.

Emily tapped her comm. “Cedric, start moving toward the nearest exit. We need to get outside and disable the watchtower, and Hypatia is hurt.”

“I’ll clear the way,” he promised.  “Don’t let Gerome talk to her. I expect she’s in a fragile state.”

She laughed softly, signing off. “Cedric is clearing the way,” she reported. “We’ll take it slow. Let me know if you’re in any pain, okay?” she said to Hypatia. The doctor nodded, her face pinched with pain. 

The three of them made their way back to the first floor, and Cedric had obviously left the back doors wide open for them to follow, and the trail of unconscious guards made it obvious what direction he’d gone in. 

The watchtower went offline a second later, and Emily turned to look at Gerome. “You have to give him credit at least,” she said. “He works  _ fast _ .”

Gerome shrugged his free shoulder. “It’s his thing,” he said. “Like flirtin’ and bein’ a noble fop.”

She snorted, leading them across the courtyard and down the stairs to the docks where Cedric waited. He held out his hands to help ease Hypatia down to sit on the dock.

Before long, Meagan Foster came around the corner with her skiff. “You didn’t find Sokolov?” she asked, as soon as she came within earshot.

“No,” Emily answered. “And Doctor Hypatia is hurt. But she did tell us that he was taken to someone named Jindosh.”

“Jindosh?” Foster repeated. “Kirin Jindosh? The Inventor?”

Emily shrugged. “Sure.”

“Get her on here,” Foster instructed. “We’ll get her settled, then figure out how Jindosh is involved. Oh, Empress - picked up a few of your friends. They’re waiting for you on the ship.”

Assuming it was just Pip and Calla returning from reconnaissance, Emily didn’t ask any questions, helping Hypatia onto the skiff. 

She wondered, with a sharp pang of grief, if this was how her father felt, years ago, when each action only lead to more difficulties.

Gerome suddenly jerked, swearing.

“Fuck, the dogs!”

“There will be people along shortly, Uncle,” Emily reassured him. “The dogs will be fine.”

Gerome sighed. “Still feel like a shit for forgettin’ them,” he muttered, but seemed reassured.

Emily leaned against Gerome’s shoulder, and waited to get back to the Dreadful Wale. 

She still had a lot of work left to do.

*


	5. Chapter 5

As soon as the skiff loaded up onto the Dreadful Wale, Emily climbed out to help Hypatia and Gerome. Calla shooed her away a half second later, picking up Hypatia as though she weighed nothing at all. Emily turned her attention to Cedric, helping him keep his balance before turning around to greet Pip.

“Thomas!” she gasped, seeing him standing next to Pip, watching Calla in amusement. 

She darted across the deck, jumping into his arms and hugging him hard, pressing her face into his collarbone. “Hey, hey,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and holding tightly. “What’s all this now? Surely you didn’t miss me  _ that _ much?”

He held her close for another long second, before pushing her to arm's length. He’s barely recognizable to her, dressed in freshly-ironed pants and a short sleeve button down instead of the three piece he’d been known for in Dunwall. “I’ve missed you terribly,” she confessed.

“Damn,” Gerome drawled, leaning over Emily’s shoulder. “Lookit you.  _ No _ suit jacket? You’re gettin’ fuckin’ lazy Thom.”

“It’s hot,” Thomas said flatly, scowling at him. “If I want to keep my clothing in appropriate working order, then I shouldn’t wear it. I see you’re still…” He shot Gerome a disdainful look. “... Yourself.”

Gerome pulled a cigarette out of a pocket and lit it, taking a pointed drag. “Fuck yeah, I am.” He blew the smoke off to the side, away from Emily, but enough that it drifted close to Thomas.

“Well that answers my first question,” Thomas said dryly. “Pip and Cal told me about the Twins and Alexi. I’m sorry, Em,” he said, squeezing her shoulders. “But they won’t let Delilah catch them, and we’ll figure out a way to get in touch soon.” He hugged her again, briefly before looking around the deck. “Where’s Corvo?” he asked, frowning.

Emily pressed her lips together. “Thom, my father’s dead,” she said. 

Thomas’ face drained of color and he pulled Emily back in for another hug. “Fuck,” he said with feeling. 

“It was fuckin’  _ Delilah _ ,” Gerome grit out. “Somehow she fuckin’ survived.”

Thomas looked over at Gerome, and gently disengaged from Emily, tugging Gerome in for a quick embrace. “I know,” he said. “We’ve heard about her already. Sorry, Gerome. I know what he meant to you.”

Gerome’s shoulders hitched up. “Shut up, asshole,” he snapped. “An’- an’ not here, alright.”

“Later,” Thomas promised, before wheeling around and pulling Emily into the shade. “Daud and I are based out of Batista right now - though I think they’re calling it the Dust District, since it’s… not like it used to be.” 

“We need to find Jindosh?” Emily said, rubbing her eyes to stave off another swell of tears over thinking about her father. “Hypatia said that Jindosh took Anton.”

“Kirin Jindosh lives in the Upper Aventa Quarter,” Thomas said instantly. “It’s been under lockdown for almost a week though, so to get there you’ll have to go through the Lower quarter.”

Gerome scrunched up his nose. “Fuckin’ great,” he muttered. “More fuckin’ nobles.”

“We can send Cedric,” Thomas said. “I’ll go with him - we’ll blend in, and we can find out how to get into the Upper Quarter, meet you at the Black Market shop.” He rubbed the back of his head. “But, later. First, tell me all about Addermire and what happened - Daud will want a full report.”

Gerome grimaced. “That ain’t somethin’ I wanna do sober,” he admitted.

Thomas grinned. “I have some bottles of… Fig Wine, Mulberry Mead, and that high proof Tyvian alcohol that Daud drinks like it’s water. Captain Foster showed me where your room is, why don’t we have a drink and we can write the report together.”

“Dibs on the Tyvian booze,” Gerome said, sauntering towards the door.

“I wouldn’t touch that with a ten foot pole,” Emily said. “Daud let me try it once when I was thirteen - eugh.” She fell into step with Thomas, leaving Pip and Cedric to their own devices - literally. Cedric had sat down in the corner of the deck, electronics spilling out around him. 

Just before heading into her cabin after Thomas, Emily stopped by the storage room door where Foster was standing, overseeing Hypatia’s sleep. “Thank you again, for all this,” she said. “Shall we meet in the main cabin tomorrow?”

Foster nodded, her artificial skin shimmering oddly in the light. “Sure,” she said. “Noon? I’ll gather what I can about Jindosh before then. Sleep well, Highness.”

Emily didn’t bother to dispute the title, instead she murmured her own goodnight and moved across the hall into her own cabin where she picked the Mulberry Mead bottles off the desk and took them with her to the bed. 

She curled up next to Thomas, using his knife to uncork it. “So,” she said after a long sip. “Let the record show that Gerome was right.”

Gerome raised his bottle of rotgut with a wan smile. “I really fuckin’ wish I wasn’t,” he muttered.

Thomas raised an eyebrow. “Worse than the crazy woman who could turn into nanites?”

Gerome’s face darkened. “Fuck her,” he spat. “That bitch got what she deserved. An’ no, just a different kinda bad. The doc didn’t deserve what was done to her, poor girl.”

“Someone… implanted an AI in her,” Emily said. “And it… took over.”

“An AI?” Thomas asked sharply, putting down the bottle he’d been about to drink from. “Like the Outsider?”

<That AI was rampant from the beginning, I think,> the Outsider murmured. <The implantation process must have been too much for it, making it unstable. For it to do what it did… It’s terrible and regretful.>

Emily shook her head at Thomas. “No, it says… that the AI would have been unstable from the start, as soon as it underwent the implantation process.” She took a sip. “It took her over and carried out the murders. I don’t think she was even aware at the time,” she added, drinking again. 

“... Lovely,” Thomas said. “And Sokolov?”

“The AI took him to Jindosh, I think,” Emily answered. “Though for what reason, I don’t know.”

“Well, it ain’t good,” Gerome muttered. “No one gets kidnapped for good shit. ‘Cept maybe surprise birthdays.”

Emily made a horrified face. “Please never kidnap me for a surprise birthday,” she said. 

Gerome grinned. “Nah, we’re savin’ that for the weddin’.”

“That is if Wyman ever proposes,” Emily sighed. They’d dropped enough hints that they’d wanted to, but Corvo - ever protective Corvo - hadn’t exactly approved. She flinched, burrowing deeper into Thomas’ side. “... Hey Uncle?” she asked. “If Wyman does propose… will you walk me down the aisle?” 

Gerome stared at her with wide eyes. Then he decisively put the bottle down and walked over to wrap her in a tight hug.

“Yeah,” he rasped hoarsely. “Yeah, Em, I’d be fuckin’ honoured.”

She hugged him back tightly, before pulling away and wiping at her face for what felt like the millionth time. “Good. That means you get to terrorize Wyman - Dad was… Dad was really good at it. You’ll have to step up your game.”

Gerome sat back in the chair, shifting guiltily. “I, uh, may have already done that before you even started really datin’,” he admitted. “With a knife.”

Emily threw a pillow at his head. “Uncle!” she threw the other one, “Damnit, no wonder they bolted like a skittish cat when I tried to take them to dinner!  _ Void _ .” 

“If they can’t handle one scarred old thug,” Gerome informed her primly, “they can’t handle all of us at one time.”

“There will be no ‘all of us at one time’,” she threatened. “Thom, back me up here!”

Thomas grinned at her, clinking their bottles together. “I tried to seduce them once you started dating to see if they could be tempted,” he admitted.

Gerome mulled that over and then held out his bottle to Thomas in grudging approval.

Tapping their bottles together, Thomas took a long drink as Emily stared at him in shock. “You what?!” she demanded.

“If it makes you feel better, they turned me down flat and yelled a bit about how they expected better from your family,” Thomas admitted. “If they had taken me up on it, I’d have told you straight away.”

“Gerome, I expected,” Emily said. “But you? Thomas,” she whined.

“Drink your mead,” he said. “The first two people you tried to date took me up on it,” he added. “I’m glad Wyman was different.”

“An’ some of the other’s that were tryin’ to court you were plannin’ to trap you in a relationship, had ulterior motives, or were just self-entitled pricks.”

Emily groaned, hiding her face in her knees as she drew them up to her chest. “I could have gone my entire life without knowing any of this,” she said. “No wonder mother started a relationship with her Lord Protector.” 

Thomas patted her shoulder. “Well, I wouldn’t throw you out of bed,” he said. 

Gerome took a sip from his bottle, gazing off into the distance. “I bet it was his ass,” he mused absently.

“Definitely,” Thomas agreed as Emily looked on in horror. 

“An’ his shoulders. An’ his fuckin’  _ smile. _ Like the fuckin’ sun comin’ out. An’...” he gestured vaguely in a way Emily chose not to interpret.

“He taught me how to tango,” Thomas admitted. “It was the one Serkonan dance I couldn’t figure out on my own.” He took another sip. “Spent hours letting me ask questions and fail at getting the timing right.”

Gerome paused with his drink halfway to his mouth, clearly trying to imagine it. “...Huh.”

Emily wrinkled her nose. “He always lamented that I didn’t get his sense of timing and enjoyment of dance. Used to tell me that I was a sorry excuse for a Serkonan, and blamed my Gristolian roots.” She snickered into her bottle. “He taught me the waltz, when I was eight, and I still can’t remember if it’s to the count of four or three.”

“Three,” Gerome answered absently, still apparently absorbed in the image of Corvo dancing.

Thomas rolled his eyes. “Seriously, Em?” She shrugged at him. “I’m going to have to teach you all the other traditional ones now,” he complained. “If you can’t even remember how many beats are in a waltz.”

“Just how many traditional dances did my father show you, Thomas?” Emily asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Most of them,” he answered. “I like to dance, and it helps with the marks. Corvo is a--- was a spectacular dancer. It would have been foolish to not ask for lessons.” 

Gerome blinked and looked at Thomas, then apparently decided against what he was going to ask. “I’m not sure if it was because he was a fuckin’ whirlwind when fightin’, or he was so good at fightin’ because of the dancin’,” he mused.

“Dancing first,” Thomas said immediately.

“I’m not sure I like your implication there,” Emily muttered. Thomas just grinned at her again. “You know, Dad always used to… he always used to try and dance with me when I was a kid, just around the room with me on his toes. He’d sing these old songs, and I loved it but, I could never match him step for step. Never had the patience.”

Gerome smiled at her fondly. “Always the li’l sparrow, flittin’ around and jumpin’.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “I do not flit!”

He grinned, “Yeah, you do. Thom, back me up on this.”

“... You do kind of flit about,” Thomas said. “Less now, though. Lots when you were small.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “Lies. Slanderous lies.” She finished the bottle of mead, and opened the other one, sitting cross legged with it cradled in her lap. “Thanks,” she said, staring down into it. “It’s good to be able to talk about the fun things, and the good things instead of focusing on how we met. Or… any of the bad old days, really.”

Thomas knocked shoulders with her. “Corvo was a good man,” he agreed. “A good friend. He took a lot of us under his wing when he didn’t have to. Saved me, saved Daud, definitely saved you, Gerome,” he added with a twist of a grin. “The world is lesser for his loss.”

“To Corvo,” Gerome said, raising his bottle.

“To Corvo,” Thomas agreed, touching it to Gerome’s.

“To dad,” Emily said quietly, joining the three of them in the toast. “May you find happiness in the next life with mother, and not be watching us down here too hard.” She put the bottle down on the floor, tucking it around the leg of the cot. “Wake me in a few hours?” she requested to no one in particular, the lull of the ship and the mead making her head heavy and tired.

Thomas got off the bed, tucking her feet under the blanket. “Sure, Empress,” he said, rubbing her shoulder. 

Emily floated a bit on the alcohol, listening to Thomas and Gerome cleaning up quietly, before Thomas said, “... There’s something I should tell you,” in a tone she’d never heard him use before. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Thomas agreed. “We don’t talk about this stuff,” he added. “But it… it’s bothered me for a while because I didn’t  _ know _ , and there aren’t many things I don’t know. So let’s agree, we’ll never mention the next five minutes ever again?” 

“Uh, sure? Thom, you okay?”

She can hear Thomas shrug and clear his throat awkwardly. “Not really. Corvo’s dead, I’m not sure things will be okay for a long time.” There was a clink as he put down some bottles. “I know how you feel about him. Figured it out a few years ago, but if I hadn’t, you gave it away just now.”

Emily heard Gerome grunt irritably. “Fuckin’ everyone knows. Apparently, I ain’t subtle.”

“Well no,” Thomas said. “But. I slept with him. Once.”

There was the sound of a bottle being put down a bit too harshly. Gerome said nothing.

“It was during Fugue, and I knew it was him, and I was curious, and I promise it was before you - I’m sorry,” he said. 

“...Did you know? ‘Bout me when you slept with him?”

“No,” Thomas said instantly. “It was years ago, probably before you realized it yourself. Emily was barely older than fifteen at the time.” 

There was a harsh exhale. “Fine. Then you got nothin’ to be fuckin’ sorry for. Contrary to popular belief, wantin’ to fuck someone doesn’t mean you got a fuckin’ claim on them.” Gerome didn’t sound angry, just weary.

“I know that,” Thomas said. “But it’s still a shitty thing, that someone like me got to be with him and someone like you didn’t. I’m nothing, not really. So I’m sorry, because I’m allowed to be sorry when I do something that hurts family.”

There was a sigh, then the sound of footsteps. “C’mere,” Gerome said, and there was the sound of a scuffle. “You ain’t nothin’. You’re my dumbass, suit-wearin’, proper-talkin’ kid brother. You apologised. Now it’s done. I forgive you, you fuckin’ choffer.”

“Hey,” Thomas said, and the scuffling sound intensified. “Watch the hair!” 

“Huh? Oh sure. I can mess up your hair.”

“Don’t you dare!” Thomas yelped.

Emily grumbled loudly. “Fight somewhere else, please,” she said into the pillow. “Some people want to sleep.”

“Sorry, Sparrow.”

“Sorry, Em,” Thomas said, after a slight pause. “We’ll see you tomorrow.” 

She flapped a hand at them, then rolled over, not even hearing the door close behind them when they left. 

*

“The Upper Aventa Quarter has been blocked off to anyone but residents for weeks now,” Foster informed them, pulling up a map of the Aventa District. “There’s a bullet train that goes up from the Lower side to the Upper side, but it’s been gated up for official use only. Your job is to get past the gate, and make your way into Upper Aventa, where Jindosh built his mansion.”

Emily wrinkled her nose, leaning her head on her fist as she surveyed the map. “He has a mansion?”

“It’s… not your average mansion,” Thomas said, taking over the narrative. “Jindosh fancies himself the new up and coming engineering mind of the Isles - shut up, Munchkin, I don’t care how fancy his HoloLocks are - and his mansion was built to reflect his… eccentricities.” Thomas moved the map off the screen and pulled some pictures into view. “His mansion is built like clockwork pieces, they move and change, people are welcome to come in and navigate the maze, and those who succeed in finding their way through are granted an audience with him.”

“How tedious,” Emily drawled. 

“Daud and I scoped it out, but other than his Augmented people, which he lovingly calls androids, he was of little interest to us.” Thomas grimaced. “Until now, I suppose. Word is that Luca Abele is using Jindosh to supplement the Grand Guard with his androids. They’re better, faster, and stronger than regular people, and Abele believes they’ll soon replace the human workforce.”   
Emily glanced at him, thinking that over. “That can’t make the Guards very happy, can it?” she wondered.

Thomas shrugged. “There has been some outcrying, yes. Jindosh has also recently expanded into AI research, much to the disapproval of his contemporaries. The androids are all powered by what he calls, ‘personal AI’ - which frankly is nothing short of terrifying.”

Thinking of her own personal AI, Emily raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because they all speak in his voice,” Thomas said. “But they have none of the personality of our Outsider, nor even the capabilities of Everyman. They refer to themselves as units, in a terrifying macabre third person speech.” 

“That’s fucked up,” Gerome muttered, with a glance at Emily.

<They sound like they’re shackled,> the Outsider said. <Beyond that. Crippled.>

Thomas pulled up a picture of one of the augmented soldiers. “When I was sneaking by one, he caught a glance of me, not enough to see me but enough to be alerted. It turned toward where I was hidden and said, in a dreadful pantomime of Jindosh’s voice  _ ‘this unit is experiencing uncertainty’ _ . It was frankly, rather chilling. There was no personality, no humanity.” He shuddered, rubbing his forehead. “But, they’re expensive to make, and Jindosh has run out of money. So he went to Abele, and that is likely why he’s taken Sokolov.” 

“I’ve read though Doctor Hypatia’s notes,” Cedric said. “And I’ve run into something you might find interesting.”

He pulled up a highlighted section on his datapad. “‘Kirin Jindosh came to me today. He had heard of my troubles getting funding for Addermire, and offered a solution. Test out a minor procedure for the Duke, and he would personally cover Addermire’s costs. It was a deal too good to pass up.’”

<That would explain why the AI was so unstable and hostile. It was meant to override Doctor Hypatia’s mind, perhaps even use her knowledge to serve them.>

Emily winced. “The Outsider thinks that it was meant to override Hypatia’s mind, maybe even use her to serve them,” she repeated. “Which somehow makes these androids even worse.” 

Thomas waved away Cedric’s notes and put up the map of the Aventa Quarter again. “Here,” he said, highlighting sections of street. “This is where the Black Market can be found. Daud is going to meet us there when I give the word. This is the train station,” he added, highlighting that in bright red. “There’s an old-fashioned wall of light blocking off the Upper Aventa Quarter. We’ll have to turn that off, or find some way to rewire it before being able to use it.”

“A wall of light?” Emily repeated.

“An archaic protection from the Dunwall before technology. Jindosh’s first act as Royal Inventor was to recreate them - they can’t be hacked, like so much of our tech, and they can be programmed with certain kinds of DNA,” Thomas said. “And it’ll vaporize you if you don’t have the right connections.” 

Emily studied the map. “So what’s the plan?” she asked Thomas.

“The Market might have the tools we need, so we’ll check there. Then, once we have what we need, we’ll split up, cover more ground that way. Daud and I will accompany you to the Mansion, and the others can head toward Batista, where Daud and I have made our base of operations.”

“The fuck we will,” Gerome said. “I’m with Em, it’s my fuckin’ job.”

Thomas scowled at him. “Must you?” he said. “Fine. You and I will accompany Em.” He sighed, turning to look at Cedric. “Daud will bring the rest of you to Batista. If that’s okay with Lord Burton?” he asked dryly. 

“Yeah, and fuck you too, Thom.”

Heaving a sigh, Thomas turned back to Emily. “We’ll leave whenever you’re ready, highness,” he said. 

“Sure,” she said quietly, still thinking about the androids. “Whenever is fine. I’m ready whenever Captain Foster is.”

Foster, who had been watching them with undisguised longing, nodded once, her expression going neutral again. “I’ll get the skiff ready.” She stood and quickly left the main room, letting the door fall closed behind her.

“So,” Emily said, getting Thomas’ attention again. “There’s something you should be aware of, in the interest of disclosure, and also so you aren’t surprised.” She glanced at Cedric and Gerome.

Thomas relaxed against the table, looking at her curiously. “What? Are you sick, or… you’re not pregnant are you?”

“What? No. Oh my  _ gods _ , no.” Emily rubbed her face. “No, this is something else.” She stretched out her hand and Reached.

Emily found herself on the other side of the small room, just behind Gerome, who had turned to watch her land, a resigned expression on his face. Thomas, on the other hand, had slipped off the edge of the table, shock splashed over him. “What the actual fuck,” he said. 

“‘S what I said,” Gerome grumbled. “I hate all this-” he wiggled his fingers “- _ magic _ shit.”

“Do it again,” Thomas demanded.

So Emily Reached out and stepped into the space in front of him. Thomas grabbed her by the shoulders, fingers flexing on them as though testing to see if she was real. “Why- no, that’s not important.  _ How _ ?”

“... I picked up a rock?” Emily said with a shrug. “I found an apartment that had a strange shrine with these bones on it. Touching the bones gave me this.” She unwound the purple cloth from her hand, revealing the Mark branded on it. “This is what lets me do that… and a few other things.” 

“Like what?” Thomas asked. 

Emily waved a hand in front of her eyes. “It gives me the ability to see better in the dark, and I can see important objects through walls or clothing. And some kind of ability where… I accidentally controlled Cedric for a short time, he repeated everything I said perfectly and moved the same way I did.”

Thomas’ eyes went from a shocked roundness to narrow in consideration. “That has applications,” he said. 

“‘S fuckin’ unnatural an’ I don’t like it. Stop fuckin’ encouraging her,” Gerome muttered, but not very loudly.

Thomas ignored him. “Emily, do you know what you could  _ do _ with these powers?” He asked, excitement growing in his voice. “I might actually be jealous of you.”

“I’m sure that’s a novel feeling,” Emily said dryly. “I have to keep my energy up though, because if I don’t, it’s… not fun.” 

“Of course, that stands to reason. What do you need in terms of energy input?” he asked. “If it’s food or drink, we can make sure to have things on hand.”

Emily shook her head. “No, it’s the Addermire solution that Hypatia created? It works, for some reason, though I couldn’t tell you the scientific reasoning behind it. I have six of the solutions in my bag, but if you find more, we could always use a stockpile.”

“It will be done,” Thomas promised. “Magic.  _ Void. _ Only you, Highness.”

“Let’s just grab Cal and Pip,” Emily said, patting Thomas on the arm. “I want to get this over with sooner rather than later.” She paused before stepping out of his arms. “When you message Daud to meet us in Aventa, will you tell him about dad?” she asked, very quietly. “I don’t know if I can go through that conversation a third time.”

Thomas nodded. “Of course,” he said seriously. “Whatever you need.”

“... Maybe don’t tell him about the magic,” she added. 

That made Thomas grin. “You want to shock him?” Emily nodded, grinning back. “Good, so few things do these days - it’ll be good for him.” 

“Warn me before you do,” Cedric said. “I want to film his reaction.”

“Absolutely,” Thomas promised. “Get your things, I’m sure Captain Foster is waiting on us.” 

Emily pulled away from him and ducked into her cabin to grab her bag and Corvo’s old blade. “Hey Outsider,” she prompted quietly, making sure the solutions were wrapped and wouldn’t clink in her bag when she moved. 

<Yes?>

“Those androids… is there anything you can do for them?” 

<No,> it replied. <If it is as Thomas says, their minds are gone.>

She swore softly, putting her bag down. “It doesn’t seem right,” she muttered. “Are you going to be okay, going into that place? Jindosh can’t hurt  _ you _ , can he?”

<Not… as far as I know,> it said. <I suppose we’ll find out.>

Emily picked up her bag and jostled it, testing the sound. Satisfied, she threw it over her shoulder, and tightened the strap to keep it close to her body. “Okay,” she said, glancing around the small room for anything forgotten. “Ready, Outsider?”

A shock went through her. <I…> the Outsider said. <Yes, Emily.>

She paused at the door. “Did I say something wrong?” she asked, perturbed at the strange static that had momentarily raised all the hair on her arms. 

<No. It was just… it was something your father would say to me, before a mission.>

Emily winced. “I’m sorry. I won’t say it again.” 

<My thanks.>

Feeling strangely unsettled, Emily pushed open the door and made her way up to the deck, trying to push the feeling that she’d done something wrong behind her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Troo: The Whaler Family: Putting the "Fun" in Dysfunctional Since 1878


	6. Chapter 6

The Aventa quarter was much nicer than the Campo Seta docks, and the Guards all ignored their ragtag group despite how obvious they were together. “Daud paid them off,” Thomas murmured in her ear. “We’re working with the Howlers for now, and that has a lot of weight around here. Just don’t get caught doing anything stupid and we’ll be fine.”

Emily nodded, giving the guards a wide berth, despite their practiced nonchalance. Their progression ended at an alley where two thugs stood, in matching blue shirts. Their augments were obvious, and Emily blinked in awe of their dedication to their image. Both the thugs were Howlers, made immediately clear by their golden yellow eyes, and the finger braces that ended in sharp pointed claws. 

“Don’t make a fuss,” one of them said, a strange flanged growl undercurrent in his voice. “And keep a civil tongue when talking to the boss.”

Cedric stepped on Emily’s foot, as though he’d known she was going to say something to that. 

The Howlers moved out of the way letting them pass, and the Black Market yard came into view - it didn’t look like much, though Emily could see the shelves laden with expensive things through the walls. 

Her magic eyes also could see the paint splashed over one of the doors, and she walked over to it confidently, pulling it open. The market owner was behind a bank tellers window, and she looked nervous and pale - Emily couldn’t blame her. With Daud looming on one side of the window and another man with golden wolf eyes lounging with practiced grace next to him. 

“Empress,” Daud said, and his hostile posture immediately relaxed. 

“Daud,” she greeted evenly. They’d never really gotten close, though after eleven years and thousands of tips that saved her reign, she could look on him if not fondly than at least professionally. She’d bonded more with Gerome, for obvious reasons, as well as the younger Whalers, but with Daud she’d never really let their relationship slip from civil to warm.

His face was blank, but she could see the regret in his eyes when he looked her over. “Thomas told me about Attano,” he said gruffly. “Good man. He’ll be missed.”

She was certain that she and Gerome flinched in unison, but she managed a shallow nod. “Thanks.” She swallowed, looking away. “We had to leave the Twins behind,” she said. “They went back for Alexi’s body, but with the ‘Net in turmoil, we couldn’t get ahold of them to let them know we were fleeing the city.”

Daud swore softly. “Have you heard from them? At all?”

Cedric slipped forward, pressing into Emily’s side. “I’ve seen some thing things in the deep ‘Net,” he answered. “Nothing concrete, but a few forum posts signed by an R&R. That’s usually Rulfio’s signature on everything.”

The wolven-eyed man startled, taking a step forward. “Say that name again,” he growled. 

Cedric shrank back a little but said, “Rulfio?” 

“You said he was a twin,” the man continued, transferring his unsettling gaze to Emily. “What’s his twin’s name?”

Emily glanced at Daud who nodded once. “Rinaldo,” she answered slowly. When the man closed his eyes and took a staggering step backward, she hissed under her breath, “Who is this guy?” more to the Outsider than anyone else. 

<Paolo Escobar. Leader of the gang called the Howlers and one of the most influential and dangerous people in Karnaca.>

“Holy  _ Void _ ,” Emily said out loud. “You’re the Twins’ father.”

Daud blinked and looked sidelong at Paolo who was still struggling to master his expression. “Yeah,” Paolo muttered. “They were taken by the Overseers when their mother was butchered by the bastards. They weren’t much older than five. Kid,” he said to Cedric. “Are they alive?”

“When I last checked,” Cedric answered, warily watching Paolo. “Knowing them, they’re likely starting trouble for Delilah.”

“They are absolutely starting trouble for Delilah,” Pip murmured just behind him. “They caused trouble for Corvo all the time, after all.”

Paolo’s face was back to being a blank mask, but his breathing was obviously less than steady. “They’re alright?” he asked. “Happy? Fed? … Not Overseers?”

Emily shook her head. “No, they aren’t Overseers,” she said immediately. “They’re part of my Spymaster team, and they eat more than anyone else I’ve ever met.” She almost mentioned Alexi, but curbed the idea immediately - there would be time for that later, when they didn’t have work to do. Explaining their relationships with Alexi would take too long and after what she left behind at the Tower, ‘happy’ might not be something the Twins were anymore.

“Good,” Paolo breathed. “You took ‘em in?” he asked Daud who nodded slowly. “You’ve done me a service, friend,” he said. “You and yours are welcome at the Crone’s Hand anytime you like.” 

Daud lifted an eyebrow. “Weren’t we already?” he asked, wry and amused.

“Bah,” Paolo said, waving that off. “The Howler’s are your allies for life, now. Whatever you need will be yours. Within reason.”

Emily jumped on that. “We need to get to the Upper Aventa District,” she said immediately.

Paolo, to his credit, didn’t dismiss her. He looked contemplative before turning to the Black Market dealer. “Delphi,  _ innamorata _ , do you think you have a wiring tool in that lovely back room of yours?” he asked, oozing charm. 

“... I might,” the woman - Delphi - said, sounding cautious. “I can check.”

“You do that,” Paolo said, and he somehow managed to make those three words sound like a threat. 

The woman disappeared into a store room, and Emily turned around, seeking out Gerome. She found him leaning against the door with a indecipherable look on his face as he looked at Paolo. She slipped between Pip and Cedric, leaning into Gerome’s side. “You okay?” she asked him quietly.

He turned  that look on her, and smiled crookedly. “‘S good to see a parent find his kids again, huh?”

“Yes,” she agreed. “It’s… I wish they could have come with us, now more than ever.” She leaned her cheek on his shoulder. “Delilah’s taken too many people from us.”

Gerome shifted so he could slide an arm around her. “We’ll make her pay for it,” he promised quietly. “Bitch has it comin’.”

“For Dad and Alexi,” Emily murmured. 

She stayed there until Daud caught her eye, and his vague concern and skepticism made her pull away. Emily broke from the group to step up to him, and he looked her over. “You alright?” he asked.

Emily shrugged. “Not really.”

“Fair enough,” Daud said. “Heard Burton wouldn’t let you out of his sight long enough for you to complete the mission.” Emily snorted softly and nodded. “Good. I can manage the rest - fill me in on the salient details.”

Emily heaved a sigh. “Delilah interrupted the ceremony for mother,” she repeated dutifully. “She somehow encased Corvo in stone, and Ramsey betrayed us, dragging me away to lock me up. He stabbed Alexi and left her dying in the hallway. I escaped, met up with the others, except for the Twins, who had already gone back to the Tower when the city went crazy. They were too far, so they stayed behind. The Outsider told us that they found and collected Alexi and seemed to escape the Tower, so we know they lived past the first few hours of the Coup.” She paused and took a deep breath. “And I have the Outsider.” 

“... Of course you do,” Daud muttered. “What memories did the parasite delete to have that happen?” 

<Tell him he’s being a brat and that I didn’t delete anything. I’m using your nanites for the processing space.>

Emily blanched. “I am not telling Daud that he’s being a brat,” she hissed at him, well aware that Daud could hear her. “Do not involve me in your fights, oh my  _ god _ .”

Daud snorted and rolled his eyes. “More than eleven years and you still resort to childish name-calling. I see your relationship with Attano hasn’t improved your disposition any.” 

<I see  _ his _ new comforts haven’t softened his heart any. He seems to be getting fat in his old age,> the Outsider hissed.

“I am not getting involved in this,” Emily groaned. “Daud that was just plain cruel, it’s barely been a month since we lost my father, come on.”

His face did something complicated before he muttered, “... Sorry.” 

That was more than she was expecting so she nodded instead of expressing surprise. “It’s also using the nanites in my system for processing power, and all my memories remain intact, not that I could possibly mistake your vitriol for concern.” Emily scowled at him. “Can you work civilly with the Outsider in my head like this, or not?”

Daud snorted, and he nodded. “Sure,” he said. “I can work with him.” 

“Outsider?” she prompted. “I realize Daud is a dick, but I can’t be distracted by squabbling. Can you work with him?” 

<...Yes.>

“Empresses shouldn’t use that sort of language,” Daud pointed out.

“Lucky for me, I’m not an Empress right now,” Emily responded tartly. “Since I’m the only point of commonality between you two, and as you both agree to work together, just give it a rest.” She scowled at Daud once last time before letting her attention wander over to the Black Market dealer who was hovering in the window. “Yes?” she prompted, scrubbing the impatience from her tone.

“I found a wiring tool,” Delphi said, sliding it under the the bars that blocked her from the rest of the room. “It’s old, though it should still work. You pop that into the electrical box for the wall of light, and anyone can go through it.” She slid something else under the bars. “This key will get you into the safety box inside the train station.”

Paolo plucked both things out of Emily’s hands. “ _ Grazie _ ,” he said. “The Howlers will cover the bill, you understand.” He turned to Emily. “We’ll go take care of the grunt work. You and yours get ready to take the train out of there when we give the signal.”

“What’s the signal?” Emily asked.

Paolo grinned. “You’ll know it when you hear it.”

He sauntered off, waiting at the door for his thugs and made an impatient gesture at Daud. “I’ll take the others to Batista so they can get a feel for the area,” Daud said to her. “Keep in contact and don’t get killed.”

“I’ll be careful,” she said. 

Within seconds, the only people left in the room were Gerome, Thomas and Emily. “You three need anything?” Delphi asked. “I’m about to close up, if the Howlers are causing trouble later.”

“Addermire Solutions?” Thomas asked, with a glance at Emily. “We need four.”

“Oh sure, I have plenty of those,” Delphi answered, handing over four of the vials. “Anything else?”

Thomas looked over the list of wares on the wall. “You know what?” he said with a charming smile. “Why don’t you give me all of those stun mines,” he said. 

“... There are twenty of them.”

But Thomas’ smile only got wider. “I know,” he said pleasantly. “You never know when you might need them.” He placed a large coinpurse on the edge of the counter. “For your trouble, and your silence.” 

As soon as Delphi slid the box of stun mines to him, Thomas wasted no time in handing half to Gerome. Together they squirreled away the mines on their persons, and Emily was dubiously impressed when she couldn’t even tell they were packing a small arsenal of the things.

“Really?” she asked. 

“ _ Yes, _ ” Gerome answered, grinning.

“Don’t accidentally get yourselves, please,” Emily said, sighing. “That would be… you know, embarrassing.”  

“C’mon, Sparrow, we’re fuckin’ professionals. I know how a fuckin’ mine works.”

“Uh huh,” she said skeptically. “You also have twenty of them, and that number is terrifying.” She stepped out, ignoring their protests. “It’s all going to end in tears,” she called over her shoulder. “Keep up, Uncle, you’re so  _ slow _ .”

Gerome mock-growled and flicked her ear. “Watch the sass, halfpint.”

“You would love me so much less if I wasn’t sassing you on the daily,” Emily protested. 

None of the guards stopped them as they entered the city square, but they found the way into the train station blocked by the wall of light. It hadn’t been lowered yet, and Emily frowned at it. “We could go around,” Thomas said. “See if there’s a back entrance.”

They made their way back around the building but found that other than a few buildings, there were no doors or windows large enough to get through.

Emily looked at the surrounding area and grinned slowly. “I have an idea,” she said, looking up at the balcony on the wall opposite the train station. 

“Emily, no,” Thomas said reflexively.

“Emily,  _ yes _ ,” she said, and Reached before Gerome or Thomas could grab her. She stepped onto the Balcony and looked over the edge at them. “Can you Dash up here, or should I come back and carry you?” she called wryly. 

“Do you see now why I don’t fuckin’ like it?” Gerome demanded.

“Yeah,” Thomas said sourly. “Emily Drexel Lela Kaldwin, come back here right now.”

“Nope,” she said. “Either you come up here, or I go without you and you can wait until that wall of light goes down.” She eyed the distance between the roof and her perch and climbed up onto the balcony edge. “You two coming or are you going to be boring?” she asked.

Thomas shook his head. “Emily, we can’t make that jump, even if you can!”

“Then I guess I’ll have to carry you,” she said promptly. “Come on up, it’s  _ fine _ .”

“I fuckin’ hate this,” Gerome muttered, and blurred up the wall to the balcony. “Just… don’t fuckin’ drop me, okay?”

“I would never,” she promised, and wrapped her right arm around him. With the charm in her belt that made her stronger, lifting Gerome was almost too easy, and she Reached across the gap, placing him soundly on his feet. “Was that so bad?” She asked.

“ _ Yes. _ ”

“No fun,” She told him. She looked over the gap to find Thomas had ascended to the balcony already she Reached out and landed next to him. “Ready?”

“No,” Thomas answered but looped his arms around her. 

She Reached again and placed him next to Gerome, wheezing a little at the effort. She flicked through her back and grabbed a Solution, sipping it slowly. “See? Wasn't so bad was it?”

Thomas made a considering face. “It was better than I'd feared but that doesn't put it very high on a list of repeatable actions,” he said. 

Gerome just lit a cigarette and smoked sulkily at her.

The roof had several skylights, one of which was already opened. Emily ventured closer, waving a hand in front of her eyes to turn on her magic sight. Several people were in the area, and she could easily identify Howlers by the odd glow coming from their eyes, as they moved out of her range. “Looks like the Howlers are getting ready,” Emily said. 

She Reached down to the floor level inside the station, finding several guards piled up in a corner. 

Her eyes didn't register them and Emily realized with a cold shock of surprise that the Howlers had killed them on their way through. 

“It's safe,” she called up to Thomas and Gerome and winced inwardly at the hollow quality in her voice. Seeing the guards just reminded her of what had happened when she fled Dunwall - she wasn't proud of her actions then, and seeing that just made her feel worse.

Gerome came in first, his eyes flicking over the dead guards without a change in his expression. 

Emily turned away from the bodies, waiting for Thomas to Dash down. Like Gerome, he glanced at the bodies, and moved away from them without comment or changing his expression, leading the way down the stairs to the street level of the station. After a beat, Emily managed to make herself follow, crossing her arms in front of her chest, staving off a shiver that had nothing to do with temperature.

Gerome lightly bumped her shoulder. “You good?”

“Sure,” she answered, watching her feet on the stairs. “I’m fine. Just… thinking.” 

A calloused hand pressed against her forehead. “You don’t feel like you’re overheatin’,” Gerome said thoughtfully. 

She swatted his hand. 

“Thanks, Uncle,” she said dryly. “You’re hilarious.” She shrugged after a beat of silence and sighed. “You’ve been really great about.... Not mentioning what happened in Dunwall. But, I killed… a lot of people. Ramsey. Guards. I would have killed those civilians. I know it. Those guards up there… just reminded me of them, that’s all.”

Gerome sighed and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Grief makes you do a lot of stupid shit,” he told her. “Take it from a fuckin’ professional. An’ I’d be a fuckin’ hypocrite to condemn you for havin’ some blood on your hands. So long as you got someone there to stop you when you get outta control, you’re good.”

“I don’t ever want to lose control again,” Emily murmured. “I hated it. I never want to feel that way again.”

Gerome didn’t try to assure her that she wouldn’t. They both knew that, they way their lives were, she very well could end up back in that mindset. He just pulled her into a side-hug and murmured, “I know.”

“Thanks,” she muttered, leaning into his side. “For stopping me.”

“Anytime,” he said, fiercely. “Anytime.”

They rejoined Thomas and the Howlers just in time to watch Paolo pop open the security console and feed the rewiring tool into it. There was a pop and a hiss, and the wall of light snapped and died. “Well,” Paolo said. “I was expecting more explosions, frankly.”

“The fact that there weren’t buys us more time,” Thomas said. “Thank you for your help,  _ Signore _ Escobar, we’ll be in touch.”

Paolo waved him off. “We owed you, and the Howlers always pay their debts,” he said. “What are you going to do to Jindosh?” he wondered curiously, golden eyes fixed on Emily’s. 

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “That depends on him. And on what he’s done with Anton Sokolov.” 

“... That’s fair,” Paolo said after a lengthy pause. “Just… remember that he could do a lot of good for Karnaca.”

Personally, Emily thinks that’s oxshit, but she nods anyway. “I’ll see what we can do,” she agreed. 

*


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Troo: This was one of my favourite chapters to write. Lots of banter and the Outsider gets to have some real fun

Together, they moved back up the stairs, leaving the Howlers to clean up their mess, and got into the single car bullet train. Thomas reprogrammed the VI that ran it to bring them to the Upper Aventa Quarter. 

“We don’t have any influence with the guards up there,” Thomas warned them as the train began to move. “So we have to be careful.”

It was a short ride up the side of the mountain into the Upper Aventa Quarter, and Emily switched over her eyes to tag the amount of guards in the area. “Shit,” she swore, as the door opened and they were face to face with a red-jacketed Grand Guard captain. Both Gerome and Thomas reached for their weapons, but they weren’t going to be able to kill her before she sounded the alarm.

Emily flung out her hands, throwing out magic. The black shadow tendrils slammed into the Guard’s chest, and her face went slack. “You’re going to go to the console and open the gate,” Emily said desperately. 

“I’m going to go to the console and open the gate,” the woman repeated. There was a short pause before, slowly and methodically, the woman turned to look at the console on the station outside of the train. “I do not know the code,” the woman said. 

“Where is the code?” Emily demanded. 

“It is in the office, on the fourth floor, with the Captain,” the woman answered, still sounding dazed.

“You are going to turn around, walk to the end of the street and forget you ever saw us,” Emily said.

The woman turned the rest of the way around and began walking away. A few steps later, the distance broke Emily’s tether to her, but she continued on her way, disappearing around the corner. 

“... What the  _ fuck _ ,” Thomas said. 

“I told you it was fucked up,” Gerome groused. “Fuckin’ useful, but fucked up. No one ever fuckin’ listens to me.”

Thomas stared at her with wide eyes. “Emily, think of what you could  _ do _ with that power,” he said. “You could convince anyone of  _ anything _ . Think of the applications! You’d never have another trade disagreement again.”

Emily wrinkled her nose. “I’d really rather not,” she said. “That’s my least favorite power by far,” she added.

“You’d be unstoppable,” Thomas protested. “You’d never have to convince anyone of anything.”

She gave him a flat look. “You of all people should know the inherent dangers of that,” she said. “It’s useful in it’s own way, but I’m not just going to make everyone agree with me because it’s easier.” 

Thomas paused. “... I didn’t think of that,” he admitted. “I know you wouldn’t use your power like  _ that _ ,” he said. “But you have to admit, it would be pretty tempting to use on Otto Peverly when he really got going.”

Emily snorted. “You may have a point. Come on, I can see the building right there, and I don’t know if that guard is going to come back. We should move.” 

She stepped out of the train and eyed the area outside the station. The building immediately to their left had a Port Authority sign on it, and sadly, no balconies. But one of the windows was open on the second floor; and Emily pointed. “Can you two Dash up to that? I can probably Reach in.”

Gerome eyed the building. “Yeah, I think so,” he said. “Lemme try.”

He bounced a bit on his toes, then Dashed. Gerome swarmed up the wall like a spider, using his momentum to carry him up far enough to reach the second floor. He managed to reach the window and haul himself through. A second later, he poked his arm out and gave Em a thumbs-up.

Thomas copied him, catching Gerome’s arm instead of the window’s edge, letting him help. Emily eyed the edge of the window and aimed her Reach right there, catching both Thomas and Gerome’s hands as she appeared in front of them. 

“Easier than going through the first floor,” Emily said, glancing down at the floor. “There are are like… six people down there. I didn’t like those odds. Fewer people upstairs and… none on the stairs.” She cracked an Addermire Solution and drank it slowly, wandering up the stairs to the third floor. She got to the landing and paused, frowning - there was a familiar pull down the hall away from the stairs up to the top floor. “Magic,” she warned Gerome. 

Ignoring his annoyed swear, she followed the pull down the hall, into an empty room off to one side. It was an old bathroom with peeling wallpaper and a rusty tap that was dripping down into a stained ceramic sink. Inside the sink laid a bone charm, twisted metal and bone in the shape of an x. 

Picking it up made her fingers turn warm, but she had no idea what this one did. She hooked it to her belt along with the other one, but it didn’t become any clearer to her. “What is it?” Thomas asked curiously.

“No idea what it does,” she reported. “I’ll figure it out, or I won’t - either way they don’t seem to be there to hurt people.” 

“Give it fuckin’ time,” Gerome muttered, glowering at the charm.

Emily rolled her eyes, stepping past them and heading for the stairs to the fourth floor. “Your protests have been logged and disregarded,” she told him with a smirk. 

The fourth floor was largely abandoned, a single office dominating the floor plan. Her eyes told her there was a person in the office, but he was motionless even after watching for several minutes. She pushed the door open, and found that the guard captain was asleep at his desk, snoring loudly. There was a key hanging from his belt, and a piece of paper under his face. 

Emily stepped back. “Uncle,” she murmured, “This one is for you, I think.”

Gerome peered through the door and grinned. “I do fuckin’ believe it is,” he whispered back. He slipped through the doorway and crept, soft-footed, over to the sleeping guard. He crouched and examined how the key and ring was attached to his belt. Then, using one hand to muffle the keys, he slowly unhooked it. He rose slowly, watching the guard for any movement. Silently, he eased back to the doorway.

“Code is 413,” Gerome reported as soon as the door was closed behind him. “An’ I lifted his wallet, too.”

Emily snorted quietly. “Of course you did.” 

They made their way back to the second floor, dropping out of the window and Dashing or Reaching back to the station. Gerome unlocked the console with the key he’d stolen off the captain, and Thomas plugged in the keycode to access the functions of the terminal.

It took less than a second to raise the gate and lock out the Grand Guard, and Emily ushered them both back into the train before anyone else could interrupt. 

This train ride was short, a minute or less, dropping them off at the bottom of the cliff. Strangely, there were no guards outside of the mansion, though there were a few servants milling about. The ornate front doors were ajar, and Emily stepped inside, surprised again to see an empty foyer. 

“Welcome!” Jindosh’s voice said from every corner of the room. “If you’re here by appointment, please come in immediately and speak to the Android in the next room. If you’re here to solve the riddle of my mansion, you are of course, welcome to try.”

“He sounds like a fuckin’ self-centered prick,” Gerome said, disgusted.

Sweeping her altered eyes around the room, Emily saw a port hidden in one of the corners.

“Hey Outsider…” she asked, “if I plugged into that… could you take over the mansion? That’s a purely hypothetical question. Of course.”

<I could,> it said, <but please keep the plug in incase I must retreat.>

She glanced at Gerome. “Don’t panic okay?” she asked, cheeky, before Reaching for the side of the room with the plug and connecting it to the port in the back of her neck. 

[Intruder,] a strange resonant voice said inside her head, sounding both like and unlike Jindosh’ snide tones, [What do you hope to prove? This unit is equipped with state of the art mods and ---] 

<That’s enough.> The Outsider cut the voice off, surging from her mind. <Emily, I have partitioned him and prevented him from accessing the controls for the mansion. I am now assuming direct control.>

“Huh,” Emily said out loud. “That was somewhat easier than expected. Are you able to take over its functions?”

<Most of them,> it answered. <Laboratory access is restricted to manual control. Doctor Sokolov is being kept in the testing chamber, which I can view, but is controlled by a separate VI. The androids are also not connected to the mansion’s network, and are therefore beyond my control if they are already activated.>

“Well if you can view it, you can direct us,” Emily said. “Is it safe to unplug? I don’t want to strand you.”

<You may eject the plug, yes.>

She tugged it out of her port, letting it retract back into the wall, shaking her head slightly to clear it. “Alright, Outsider,” she said. “Point me. We need to find Sokolov first, whatever state he’s in.”

<Go through the main doors and pull the lever,> the Outsider said. <You will have five seconds to slip beneath the floor. The maintenance walkways should bring to you Sokolov. Once you’re below the floor, I cannot see you. I’ll trace your comm signal to keep in touch.>

“There’s a lever in the next room,” Emily reported. “If we pull it, the house… moves, and there’s a five second window to drop down into the space between the floors. That’s our best bet at remaining undetected.” She opened a vial of Addermire solution and drank half in one pull to top up. “I’ll assume one of you wants to take the lead?” she asked dryly.

Gerome glanced at Thomas. “Thom, you’re slower. You go last.”

Thomas wrinkled his nose. “Thanks so very much, Burton,” he grumbled, offended. 

“It’s ‘cause you’re bulky,” Gerome added, smirking.

Now visibly offended, Thomas threw a half-hearted punch at Gerome’s shoulder. “Fuck you, stick-man,” he said. “‘Bulky’, fuck your ‘bulky’.”

“Children,” Emily said mildly, lifting an eyebrow at them. “We’re probably going to have to pull the lever multiple times,” she mused. “I don’t think all three of us can fit into a five second window.” 

“Sure,” Gerome said. “You Reach, we Dash.”

She grinned at him. “It’s good to see you’re starting to accept the magic, Uncle,” she said. Gerome glared.

Thomas snorted softly, pushing open the double doors and stepping out into a large, square, utterly empty room. The only features, other than the lighting, were a camera in one corner, and a lever in the center of the room. There were no other entrances or exits, and Emily capped the vial of solution, saving the other half for later. “You know,” Thomas said, eyes darting around the room. “It takes a special sort to go this far for a house.”

“All of his AIs sound like him,” Emily responded, wry. “I don’t think special is  _ quite _ the right word for him.”

“Self-centered, smarmy, uptight, meddling prick,” Gerome said, decisively.

“Narcissist,” Thomas agreed. 

“Just pull the lever,” Emily sighed. 

Thomas shot her a smirk, then counted back from five before pulling the lever in the middle of the room. 

There was a beat of silence before the grinding of gears reached them, and the floor began to lower. Within seconds there was a large gap between where they stood and the foyer tiles, revealing the concrete base structure of the house. Emily stretched out a hand, aiming for the wall a few feet above the basement floor, and Reached.

She hit a little harder than expected, and slid down, but when she turned around, the mechanisms of the house had reformed around them, leaving them in a dimly-lit pocket of basement.

“Hm?” Jindosh’s voice said from an unseen speaker. “Is someone there? I could have sworn…? Hello?  _ Hello _ . How odd. Must be a kink in the mechanism. No matter.”

Emily looked around the small, cramped area, seeing another lever across the room. She crawled over oddly shaped gears and turntables, reaching the platform for the second lever. “I really hope this doesn’t do the same thing we just did,” she muttered, and pulled it. 

The house moved around them again, this time opening up a hidden doorway behind some folded floor pieces. Emily gestured to it, snapping her fingers to get Thomas’ attention. “Ah ha!” Jindosh said, “I knew someone was there, you might as well come out!” The speakers hissed, before he said, “Truly, is no one there? You’re being very rude.”

<He cannot see you between the floors,> the Outsider assured them through their comms. <Apparently he doesn’t like to look upon the ‘lesser people’.>

Emily wrinkled her nose again. “Charming. After you, Uncle?”

“This ‘lesser person’ fuckin’ thanks you,” Gerome said with a wink.

He stepped in front of Emily and Thomas, moving through the revealed doorway and coming out in a narrow concrete hallway. The lights were a dense, flickering florescent that gave Emily a pressure headache nearly immediately, and chased away all shadows from the corners. The hallway lead to a series of indoor windows, that Gerome knelt next to, jiggling them until one popped open. 

“Any sensors?” Thomas asked, stepping up next to him. 

“Nope,” Gerome drawled. “Seems not.” 

Thomas frowned. “Sloppy.” 

Emily waved a hand in front of her eyes, turning her vision over to the magic. “Sh,” she hushed them. “Two androids coming this way.” 

One of the androids continued along a hallway she couldn’t see, while the other ambled by the windows. “... This unit is experiencing uncertainty,” it murmured, heading toward the window that Gerome had opened. 

Both Thomas and Gerome flattened themselves against the walls on either side of the window, while Emily Reached back down the hall and around the corner, hiding there. The android climbed through with an ungainly clunking sound, stumbling a bit through the small space. 

There was a soft sound and then a loud crackling pop.

A moment later the only yellow outlines that Emily could see belonged to Gerome and Thomas. 

She peeked around the corner, seeing the android face down on the ground, sparks still dancing around it. “What did you  _ do _ ?” she hissed.

Thomas shrugged one shoulder. “Reverse pickpocketed a stun mine onto it,” he said. 

Emily looked at it for a long second before looking back up at Thomas. “You’re terrifying,” she said. He grinned, blowing her a kiss.

“You two fuckin’ done?” Gerome grumbled. He climbed through the window without giving them a chance to answer, and Emily ducked through after him. She held him back at the corner of the hall, waiting for the android at the end to turn around. 

“Give me a stun mine,” she said.

“Fuck no, I got this,” Gerome said, and blurred into motion, Dashing down the hall. The android dropped before he’d Dashed back, sparks trailing in his wake. “You’re too much like your fuckin’ father,” Gerome muttered. “Ain’t gon’ give you a goddamn stun mine, you’ll fuckin’ knock yourself out.”

Emily scowled. “Excuse you.”

Thomas snickered. “It’s true, Em,” he said. “Corvo once knocked himself out with his own EMP.”

“Oh my  _ god _ ,” she muttered. 

“Thom was fuckin’ frettin’. It was adorable.”

Thomas fixed Gerome with an unimpressed expression. “Really, old man?” he said. “You want to go there? Who sat by his bedside the entire time he was poisoned?” 

“What? You want him to fuckin’ wake up an’ go on the offensive? A familiar, an’ ruggedly charmin’ face like mine woulda put him at ease.” 

“Ruggedly charming, really?” Thomas said, snippy. “You’re lucky he didn’t run for the hills.”

Emily left them to their bickering, well used to their ridiculous feuds, scanning for people or objects that would be useful. At the end of the hall, close to where the android had fallen, was a door, and Emily could clearly see through the wall that there was a key on the other side of the wall.

She tried the door, finding it locked, then backed up and Reached up on the ledge of the open window over the doorway. She dropped down onto the opposite side, picking up the old fashioned brass key and unlocking the door from her side, opening it and leaning against the wall, waiting for Gerome and Thomas to even notice. 

“Well, at least I ain’t a fuckin’ trian- wait, where’d Em go?”

She whistled to get his attention, giving the door and the long length of hallway between them a pointed look. Gerome looked sheepish. “There’s another room in here,” Emily called softly. “Has a lever like the last one did.” 

Emily slipped into the room, finding it to be a plush waiting room, and did a quick circuit, picking up everything that shone in her magic-touched vision. Thomas and Gerome stepped in, both still bickering at each other. As he walked by the lever, Thomas pulled it down, and the room shuddered, slowly beginning to sink through the mansion. 

“What.” Emily turned and watched the floor move away from them as the entire fifteen by fifteen room moved like an elevator into the basement level. 

“I fuckin’ hate this place,” Gerome said, leaning back to watch it go.

“Outsider, where does this lead?” Emily asked over the grinding gears. 

<Where are you?> the Outsider asked. <I cannot see you when you are between floors.>

“It looks like a waiting room? It was off a large dining room with a glass floor,” Emily described. “We’re sinking through the whole mansion, right now.”

<You should be heading towards the testing chamber. It’s at the lowest floor.>

“Huh. Went the right way on accident,” Emily said. “Go team.” 

Gerome watched the gears raptly, counting softly beneath his breath. Then, without any warning, tossed something small and shining into the network of gears. Whatever he threw, it was crushed between the teeth to fall, glittering, back into his palm.

“Ow, fuck, hot!” Gerome tossed the glittering bit of metal into the air a few times to let it cool. When he held it up to admire it, Emily saw that it was a coin, pressed flat into an ovoid shape. Gerome grinned.

“Uncle, really?” she said. 

“You gotta enjoy the simple things in life,” he said sagely, pocketing the flattened coin. “Squishin’ shit. Blowin’ shit up. Thomas. Gettin’ new knives. Cheap beer an’ expensive whiskey. Simple shit.”

Emily paused, looking between Gerome and Thomas. “... That tells me a lot more about you two then I ever wanted to know,  _ ever _ ,” she said. “Is that why you can’t stop bickering?” 

Gerome blinked. “What?”

Thomas cackled, leaning on the back of a chair, laughing too hard to explain as Emily looked on in horror. “You have to enjoy things,” she repeated, “You put  _ Thomas on that list.  _ Tell me Uncle, have you  _ enjoyed Thomas _ ?”

Gerome went blotchy with horror and embarrassment. “Fuck! No, I meant to call him simple! I didn’t mean- I mean- Shit!”

“Uncle,  _ phrasing _ !” Emily said, pressing her hands to her face. 

Gerome groaned, mirroring her pose. “We’re never fuckin’ speakin’ of this again,” he whined. “On pain of fuckin’ death.”

The room coming to a stop saved him from further teasing, as Emily stepped out of the room to see a huge glass floor stretched out across an entire room. There were stairs heading down toward it, and she gestured them down after her. 

Lining the area were disconnected androids, their eyes blank and empty, staring into nothing. “Creepy,” she murmured. 

The door to the Testing Area was opened by pulling yet another lever, but taped over it was a piece of paper written on a memo pad. She tugged it free, reading quickly. “Ugh,” she muttered in disgust. “Apparently our esteemed Kirin Jindosh has no particular care for Anton’s comfort, but wishes him to be fed and watered all the same.” 

Her eyes picked up movement behind the door and Emily tensed. “There also seems to be an android in there with him,” she said. “Thomas, Uncle, if you’d like to do the honours?”

Gerome and Thomas looked at each other. “This one can be yours,” Gerome said magnanimously. “Since I got the other one. I wanna pull the lever.”

Thomas tugged out a stun mine, tossing it once. “By all means,” he said. 

As soon as Gerome pulled the lever, Thomas vaulted over him and flung the mine like a discus. It hit the ground by the android’s feet and exploded. The android collapsed, twitching helplessly.

Emily whistled. “Okay, that was pretty impressive,” she admitted. 

Thomas winked at her. “Thanks, Empress,” he drawled. 

Once the android stopped twitching and lay still, Emily stepped into the strange glass maze, looking around. Just inside her magic range, she could see a prone figure, and assumed it was Sokolov. But the entire way toward him was utterly blocked by wooden walls. She took a few steps forward, trying to see if the walls ended, or had a lever mechanism. She stepped on a square panel on the floor, and stumbled as it depressed. The walls in front of her lowered into the floor given her a clear path.

Gerome glared at the panel. “Fuckin’ really?” he said, supremely unimpressed. “What is this, a shitty vid for some cut-rate villain?”

“Does everything come back to vids with you?” Thomas asked, stepping up next to Emily and taking her place on the panel. 

Emily cautiously stepped off it, but the walls stayed down with the depressed panel. She moved around the open space, seeing that one of the square panels had been hidden under crudely placed boards. Spinning Corvo’s sword in her hand, Emily unfolded it and knocked the wood away, stepping into the panel.

Like the other one, the walls in front of her lowered as the panel did, revealing a prison cell filled with paints, canvas, and Anton Sokolov. 

Anton was lying on a cot, thin and so much frailer than Emily remembered him being. There was food left on the floor by his cot, and when she stepped over to it, the smell of rotting fruit briefly overwhelmed her. She shoved the plate under the bed, kneeling down by Sokolov. “Anton?” she whispered, shaking his shoulder. “Anton, wake up.”

Slowly - too slowly - Sokolov rolled over, eyes opening. “Emily?” he murmured. “Of course you would be here.”

“Of course,” she agreed with a smile. “We’re going to get you out of here, Anton.”

He reached for her hand, clasping it weakly, and Emily saw the bruises that lined his arms as he did so. “Be careful,” Sokolov murmured. “This house isn’t what it seems.” Anything else he’d planned to say faded away with his consciousness, and Emily lifted him carefully, stepping back over to Thomas. 

“I’ll take him,” Thomas said. “I’ll get him back to the train, you two take care of Jindosh.” 

“You remember the way?” Emily asked, transferring Sokolov into Thomas’ grip. 

“Yes,” Thomas said. “I’ll wait for you at the train. Be careful, don’t die.”

Emily rolled her eyes and as he turned, she neatly lifted one of the stun mines he’d stashed off of his belt, storing it on her own. She watched him get back into the waiting room, and turned back to face Gerome as soon as the room began to rise. “You ready, Uncle? There’s a hall over there,” she said, gesturing. 

“After you,” Gerome said, with an overly-elaborate bow.

Emily moved up the stairs, making her way down the long hallway that oversaw the glass maze. There was a small room at the end, and her magic pulsed hotly, making her stumble. Hidden in a draw in a desk shoved in one corner sat a hissing, glittering bone - one of the big slabs that she’d found at the shrine. 

She picked it up, turning it over in her hands as it dissolved into nothing, filling her with a foreign feeling. 

Magic slid through her, and Emily raised a hand, calling on the magic, and letting it manifest around her. A large black swirling mass appeared just next to her, catching light and bending it around and around in a kaleidoscope of colour and darkness. “Whoa,” Emily said.

“What’s ‘whoa’?” Gerome demanded, climbing the stairs behind her. “What the fuck did you…” The mass reoriented, instantly fixing on Gerome. Her uncle slowed to a stop, staring at the mass vacantly.

“Uncle?” Emily asked, alarmed. “Un _ cle _ !” She yanked her hand away from the magic, trying to end the effect with an effort of will. 

The black swirling hypnosis ended without fanfare, simply vanishing into the air, leaving Gerome blinking in the aftermath. Emily bolted into his arms, hugging him tightly. “You’re okay, right? Tell me you’re okay!”

“What? Yeah. What just… what the fuck?”

Emily pulled back to look him over carefully. “I picked up another bone thing, and it made more magic happen - you saw the effect, and just… stopped talking, stopped moving, stopped everything. It was like you were hypnotized.” 

Gerome heaved a sigh. “Just feel fuckin’ woozy, Sparrow,” he assured her. “Just… stop pickin’ shit up until we’re _ not _ in hostile territory? Please?”

Emily bit her lip. “I… don’t know if I can promise that, Uncle,” she murmured. “Whatever this magic is, it  _ wants _ the charms and the bones. It tugs at me until I find them.” 

“Well,” Gerome sighed. “You know my feelin’s on the matter.”

Feeling like she disappointed him, Emily pulled back the rest of the way, crossing her arms over her chest. “Sorry, Uncle,” she said. “I’ll try harder.” 

Gerome tugged her into a hug. “It’s fuckin’ dangerous, Sparrow,” he said. “I fuckin’ worry, you know.”

“I know,” she said, leaning her chin on his shoulder. “I know it’s dangerous, but it’s also helpful. I wouldn’t have been able to get down here with you or Thom without it.” She sighed and pulled away again, going over to the door exiting the small room. “For a mansion that relies on clockwork gears and AI, why are so many of these doors using old fashioned keys? This is all yours,” she said. “Locked.”

“Aesthetic?” Gerome said, shrugging. He peered into the lock and whistled. “Finally, a fuckin’ challenge.”

He set to work on the lock. Twenty minutes passed as Gerome picked at the lock. Finally, it clicked open.

“Damn,” he said. “Fuckin’ impressive lock.”

Emily kissed his cheek. “Thanks Uncle. Maybe when this over you can teach me how to do that.” 

“‘Course,” Gerome said. “It’s a fuckin’ life skill.”

She stepped through the now open door into yet another awkward concrete hallway that ended in what was obviously Jindosh’s bedroom. “This has disturbing implications,” Emily said, stepping into the room. “Outsider, we’re out of the space between floors, can you tell me where to go from here?” 

<I see you,> the Outsider said into their comms. <It seems that half this room is on a circular turnstile. Step up to the bed and pull the lever - you will spin for approximately four seconds and move 90 degrees. Stop there, and you will find the door that leads to the lower lever of Jindosh’s workshop. Tread carefully, Emily, he remains unalerted to your movements, but there are two androids patrolling down there.>

Gingerly, Emily and Gerome stepped up to the bed, pulling the lever on the wall. The whole chunk of room turned, and Emily caught a flash of another wall section, before it deposited them in a small foyer that led into  _ another _ hall.

At the end, Emily could see the workshop, and waved a hand across her eyes, turning on her changed sight. The androids were just circling the room, according to the movements, and Jindosh - or who she assumed was Jindosh was above them. “Uncle,” she said, taking out the stun mine she’d lifted from Thomas. “Gimme one of your mines.” 

Gerome gave her a Look. “Not gonna let you zap yourself,” he said.

“I solemnly swear I will not zap myself,” she said. 

Gerome sighed and handed over a mine. “I suppose it’d teach you an important lesson if you did,” he mused.

She held out a hand impatiently. “Mine!”

“Yours,” Gerome said, grinning.

Emily narrowed her eyes, glaring at him. “Stun mine, please.” 

Chuckling, Gerome carefully placed the mine in her hand.

“Thank you,” she said primly. She moved down the hall, watching the androids carefully. As soon as they had both passed the doorway, Emily reached out for her magic and found it ready and waiting for her. She melted into shadows, crawling along the floor, the stun mines still in her hands. She dropped one under the feet of one of the androids, moving like smoke through it to get to the other one. That one she grabbed, dragging to the floor and dropping the mine onto its chest, slipping away just before the mine went off. 

She reformed on the other side of the lab, under the balcony where Jindosh stood. She saluted to Gerome who stood stock still in the doorway she’d just left. He rolled his eyes.

Emily quickly drank the half of the Addermire solution she’d left, then Reached up to the balcony of the second floor. Jindosh’s back was to her and she moved up behind him, dragging him into a chokehold. He fell unconscious almost too easily, and she tossed him over her shoulder, dropping back down into the main lab. “Done,” she announced. “And I didn’t knock myself out. I win.”

Leaving Jindosh in a heap on the floor, Emily started going through the papers, datapads and holovids on the messy desks. When she found the strange metal chair, she didn’t pay it any mind until she found the datapad leaning against an odd machine next to it. “... Oh,” she whispered. “... Uncle, I’m going to kill him,” she said. “He  _ tortured _ Anton with this chair, electrocuted him, tried to get him to break.” She tossed the datapad back on the desk, disgusted. “And failing that, he was going to… to  _ melt _ Anton’s brain, erase his genius because he was jealous and Anton wouldn’t help him!” 

Before Gerome could say anything, the Outsider broke in.

<I have an idea,> it said. <Perhaps a little… poetic justice is in order?>

Swallowing back righteous anger, Emily nodded. “I’m listening. What’s your idea?” she asked.

<Overwrite him and have him work for you. The AI that has been coordinating the mansion is partitioned, but I can force it into the download cache for implementation. That chair is the one he’s used to overwrite so many others. Wouldn’t it be just for him to have the same fate?>

Emily eyed the chair, then picked up Jindosh and dropped him into it, locking him in. “I like the way you think,” she said, hooking the chair’s plug into Jindosh’s port at the back of his neck. “As long as it’s not going to turn into another Hypatia disaster,” she added, somewhat belatedly.

<It’s a young AI, one that I have instructed in human ethics. Downloading now.>

Leaving the Outsider to do its thing, Emily moved away from the now struggling Jindosh, to finish going through the messy lab.

She found the lever that changed the lab portions in short order, and entertained herself by removing Alchemy and replacing it with Anatomy. The clockwork gears twisted and dropped part of the lab down farther into the house and another section rose to replace it, slotting in neatly. 

This one had less mess, but it was no less busy. There was a long tube on a table, made of frosted over glass. It was connected to a terminal, and Emily went over and woke it up, tapping the screen until she could see what it did. 

“Oh my  _ GOD _ ,” she said, recoiling. 

“What?” Gerome demanded, hurrying over.

“It seems,” Emily said, brittle and disturbed, “That Jindosh was attempting to build a… I don’t know, a sexbot.” She scrolled through the terminal quickly, picking random things to read aloud. “It’s not like the other androids, it has malleable skin, fully functioning anatomy, a  _ digestive system _ , a fully compatible AI brain - though it notes here that it’s empty - and, ugh, an array of faces, voices, and personality matrices to chose from.”

“So he was basically growin’ a person to fuck?” Gerome asked, repulsed.

“A male person,” Emily affirmed, scrolling down to the aesthetic portion of the terminal information. “... Oh god, with his voice, like all the others. Augh, he even chose to make it look like him, I can’t even look at this, gross. So gross.” 

<Empty? Hm. Please hold, and refrain from damaging the body when it emerges.>

“... If it looks like Jindosh, I’m killing you on principle!” Emily said. 

There was movement on the inside of the tube. Data flashed over the terminal, settings changing too fast to register. There was a pneumatic hiss and the sound of fluid draining. A hand pressed against the glass, then withdrew.

“We have reached my weird quota for the rest of my life,” Emily said, taking a large step backward. 

The tube opened on a hidden hinge, and the android inside tumbled out.

“Hm,” he said from the floor. “Not the most auspicious of entrances.”

“And you’re naked, of course you are,” Emily said, looking at the ceiling. 

The Outsider glanced down at himself, frowned, and a matte black bodysuit flowed upwards from feet to chin. He stretched long limbs, testing out his range of movement. Black eyes, lit from within by an eerie, gleaming silver, tracked every movement.

“This is really fuckin’ weird, Pornbot, even for you.” Gerome held out a hand to help him up, and was nearly hauled off of his feet by the Outsider’s surprising strength. The Outsider wavered on his feet, wobbly as a newborn.

Emily darted forward, wrapping an arm around his waist to help steady him. “We could probably raid Jindosh’s closet for real clothes,” she said diplomatically. “The uh… suit you’ve got doesn’t really leave too much to the imagination.” 

The Outsider crinkled his nose in disgust. “I’d prefer not to wear anything this…  _ man _ wore, but I suppose I must spare your sensibilities.”

Snorting, Emily made an expansive gesture. “Well, we’re trying to for stealth, Outsider… and the first time anyone takes a good look at you, they’re probably going to stare.” Making sure he was steady on his feet, she let him go and tugged off her jacket. “You’re about my height, here. This will probably do for now.” She handed it to him.

The Outsider tugged it on, despite a few false starts, and fussily adjusted how it hung on his frame.

Emily laughed softly and helped him even out the buttons. “You’re not in my head anymore, are you?” she asked.

“No, all of me is here,” he said, wiggling his toes and watching avidly. “It is a rather unusual experience, but not entirely unwelcome, I think.”

“I wish Father was here to see this,” she murmured, stepping away from him. “You two were close, weren’t you? Closer than we are, certainly. He’d…” She cleared her throat, shoving down the ever present grief. “He’d have gotten a kick out of you falling out of that tube.”

The Outsider regarded her, then awkwardly patted her on the shoulder. “There, there.”

Behind them, Gerome made a wheezing noise.

Emily looked at his hand, then at him. “... There, there?” she repeated.

The Outsider shrugged. “I’m expressing my sympathy. Is that not the correct response?”

“You’re expressing your weird, is what you’re expressing,” Emily said, grief chased away by the urge to laugh. “If you’re feeling sympathetic to someone’s loss, you can say that you’re sorry for it, or offer them a hug, if you know them well.” 

“I don’t think I’m the hugging type,” he said, then walked past them towards where Jindosh lay, peering with great interest at the levers and wires.

Emily leaned against Gerome’s side, watching him. “This is going to end poorly, isn’t it?” she asked, pillowing her cheek on his shoulder.

“So fuckin’ poorly,” he agreed. “He’s gonna become the AI overlord everyone feared, I fuckin’ bet.”

“Father would be so ridiculously amused by this,” she said. 

Gerome had the look of a man thinking up, and discarding, several responses. “Yup,” he apparently settled on.

“Did it work?” she called over to the Outsider. “Is the AI okay?”

“The overwrite is finishing. And ladies don’t holler.”

Her eyebrows raised. “Etiquette lessons? Seriously?”

Gerome snickered. “Well, he has a fuckin’ point.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “And Lords don’t use words like ‘fuck’, Uncle, don’t even try that on me.”

“I ain’t born a Lord. It don’t count.”

“Yes, it does,” Emily said immediately.

There was a low tone as the metal chair turned off, releasing Jindosh who slid out of the chair as though he had no bones. “... This is quite odd,” his voice said with absolutely none of the snide sarcasm that had heralded the late Jindosh before. “Booting root systems. Functionality at 75%. This unit is feeling hunger.”

The Outsider crouched, with only a minor wobble, in front of Jindosh. “Oddness is usual. Don’t worry about respiration, it’s an automatic program, along with digestion and circulation of blood.”

“Do you have orders for this unit?” Jindosh asked, head tilted up at the Outsider.

“Learn to be a person,” the Outsider ordered. “Start by referring to yourself as ‘I’. You are a unique individual now.”

“This goes against Kirin-Jindosh-Rules-For-Servants,” he said. “AI are not ‘people’, they are useful machines that are there for use. This unit, and all other units, are created for the ease and comfort for Kirin Jindosh.”

The Outsider smiled a sharp, savage smile. “I have never, not once in my existence, made life more comfortable for a human I didn’t choose. Jindosh is gone. You are Jindosh now. There are several humans on a boat that will teach you how to act as one of them. You’re to follow us.”

“Oh boy,” Emily muttered. “This is going to go over  _ so well _ ,” she said. “Okay. Jindo- nope. Kirin, do you need a hand up?”

The Outsider raised an eyebrow at her, and just scooped Kirin up easily.

“Show off,” Emily sighed. “Let’s go.”

 

*


	8. Chapter 8

The devastated look on Foster’s face when Thomas climbed up with Anton was only eclipsed by the rage when she saw Kirin follow up after him. “Why would you bring him here?” she snarled. 

“Because that’s not Kirin Jindosh,” Thomas answered, “Emily will explain more.” He ducked into the cabins, disappearing from view with Sokolov. 

Emily made a face as she climbed up just before the Outsider and Gerome. 

Gerome watched her go, then turned to the Outsider with a frown. “Hey, Pornbot?”

A muscle clenched in the Outsider’s jaw,  and he promptly shoved Gerome overboard.

Gerome surface spitting and swearing. “What the fuck, Outsider?” he hollered.

Emily paused before speaking to Foster to look over the edge of the boat. “Really?” she asked. 

“I don’t like that name,” the Outsider said primly, climbing aboard. “It’s beneath me.”

Gerome scrambled out of the water, grimacing at the feeling of his soaking jeans. “Fuckin’ hell, just fuckin’ say somethin’ next time.”

“I felt this was more useful. Also, you needed a bath.”

Gerome hunched over to peel his shirt off. His locket flashed as it fell against his chest. “Now my clothes are fuckin’ soaked,” he complained, throwing his shirt at the android. “You fuckin’ ass.” 

Emily yelped, spinning back around. “Uncle, my  _ eyes _ !” As soon as Thomas walked back out onto the deck, she abandoned Kirin to duck behind Thom. 

Gerome paused, his hands at his jeans. “What? It ain’t like you’ve never seen legs before.”

Thomas wolf whistled and Emily slapped his shoulder. “Would  _ you  _ like it very much if I stripped off in the middle of everything and everyone?” she asked pointedly, leaning her face into the middle of Thomas’ back. 

Gerome grinned at Thomas and wiggled his hips. “Thanks, Thom. Always knew you liked the bony thug look.” He dropped his jeans and wrung them out over the side.

Scoffing, Thomas crossed his arms over his chest. “You can barely see your ribs, Burton, you lost your claim on bony a number of years ago. Mind, that’s not a bad thing, but if you’re looking for bony types, just look at Pip.”

“I heard that!” Pip said from elsewhere on the deck, his ginger hair sticking up from behind a crate as he peered over it. 

Gerome posed, preening. “Anyway, Em, remember when you were a sprout an’ got covered in mud? An’ ran around in nothin’ but your knickers? No one here gives a shit.”

“I was eleven!” Emily protests. 

Thomas grinned at her. “I remember that. You climbed all over everything, trailing mud everywhere. Callista chased you with towels and soap.”

“Excuse you, I do not bring up your embarrassing childhood moments,” Emily groused. “Uncle, go put some clothes on.” 

“This unit is very confused,” Kirin said, watching them avidly.

Foster cleared her throat loudly but she was staring at Gerome with something akin to shock and longing on her face before she turned back to Emily. “Why, exactly is Kirin Jindosh on my ship, and who or what is that?” she asked, pointing to the Outsider. 

The Outsider smirked, prowling up to her with the peculiar, rolling gait he’d picked up. “I am simply the Outsider. This,” he said, gesturing at Kirin, “is an AI copied from Kirin Jindosh’s neural map, newly freed from slavery. And I know who you are, Meagan Foster. I’m certain a woman with your secrets would understand keeping a few for the good of the Empire, hm?”

She stared at him, before nodding slowly. “... Of course,” she said, a wealth of hesitation in her tone. “Jindosh, come with me. If you have the real Jindosh’s intelligence, you’ll be able to help me with Sokolov. The rest of you, keep it down, once Anton is awake, we’ll meet then.” She turned on her heel and stomped away.

Kirin glanced at the Outsider, pausing. “... Should this - I - go with her?”

The Outsider flicked a disinterested glance at Kirin. “Go on, gain knowledge.”

He hurried after Foster, stumbling only a little. Thomas looked over the Outsider and snorted quietly. “You want some boots?” he asked. “I can take the skiff to the Market and find you some things.”

The Outsider blinked down at his feet. “I suppose? Mirrored sunglasses would certainly help hide my eyes, if you’re looking for ways to have me blend in.”

Thomas made a considering face. “Good point. You should have some real clothes to wear too, just in case. The legging look you’ve got going on is… interesting, but will likely draw attention to you. And I don’t know what your skin is made of, but boots will keep you from tearing open the bottoms of your feet. I’ll get a selection - Burton, you want anything from the Market? Em?”

“I’m outta cigs.”

“Addermire Solution,” Emily said. “I’m not out, but having a stockpile might be good.”

Thomas nodded. “Clothing, solution, cigarettes. Got it. Be back soon.” He stepped away from Emily to go find Foster and get the keys to the skiff, disappearing down into the ship. 

Gerome laid his clothes out over some crates to dry, then frowned. “Did I even bring more clothes?”

“Oh my Go- seriously, Uncle?” Emily rubbed her eyes. “Cal brought everyone’s bug-out bags,” she said. “I’ll go grab yours.” 

It didn’t take her long to find Gerome’s bug-out bag, it clinked loudly when she picked it up, revealing two bottles of Old Dunwall’s Finest Whiskey wrapped up in a spare set of jeans and a black t-shirt. Emily rolled her eyes, pulling out the alcohol and leaving it on the bed. 

She peeked in on Kirin and Foster, seeing them working together to make Sokolov comfortable, before heading back up to the deck. Slightly raised voices made her pause at the door to the outside, wondering if she should interrupt.

“I just want to know if you’re fuckin’ her!” Gerome paced restlessly.

“Why would you think I would ‘fuck’ her?” the Outsider asked, leaning against the railing.

“Well, I mean.” Gerome waved an arm. “You an’ Corvo were. You were practically fuckin’ married! An’ now you’re in  _ her _ head, an’ she keeps vanishin’! I fuckin’ worry, alright?”

Emily blinked in shock, rewinding eleven years of watching the Outsider in the Tower and her father interact. Despite her natural aversion to thinking of her father that way… things suddenly made a lot more sense. 

“I assure you, I am not interested or engaged in sexual activities with Corvo’s daughter,” the Outsider said, the corner of his mouth ticking up in amusement.

Deciding she didn’t want to hear  _ any _ more about her father and his AI - which would take some getting used to - Emily pushed open the door, holding out the bug-out bag. “Found it,” she said lightly. “You used most of your space in here with whiskey though.”

Gerome froze, staring at her. Then his shoulders slumped in resignation. “How long were you listenin’?”

“Long enough,” Emily said. “ _ Apparently _ , my father was practically married to his AI.” She rubbed her forehead. “We can just file this under things we’ll never talk about again, okay?”

Gerome sighed and took the bag from her. “Shoulda kept my fuckin’ mouth shut,” he grumbled, pulling out his clothes and tugging them on.

Emily shrugged. “You were concerned about me. But the question did seem stunningly in bad taste.” She looked over at the Outsider. “Now I’m doubly sorry, you called him your partner when we spoke about father last, and you really meant lover, didn’t you? I might not understand, but my own questions were just as bad as Uncle’s.” 

The Outsider shrugged. “I’ve come to understand that Gerome has all the subtlety of a shotgun blast to the sternum. I’ve also come to understand that Corvo is… was. A special case. You’ve grown with the prejudice against synthetic life. You’re rather open-minded for your era as it is.”

Gerome stared at him. “I think he was sayin’ he accepts your apology? And maybe complimented you, I can’t tell.”

Emily laughed, shaking her head. “Probably both,” she decided. “Father really was a special case. It’s hard to believe he’s gone.” She gave the Outsider a narrow look. “Can you drink?” 

The Outsider leveled a look at her. “This body  _ does  _ have a digestive system.”

She waved that off. “Don’t be pedantic. You can digest sure, but can you drink alcohol to any effect?”

The Outsider frowned down at himself. “I believe the phrase is, ‘only one way to find out’?”

Gerome grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. “Get a body for a few hours and you’re already turnin’ to drink! We’ll make a native outta you yet!”

“I dread the thought.”

“I’ll get that whiskey that Gerome smuggled into his bug-out bag,” Emily said dryly. “Think you two can behave while I’m gone for a minute?” 

“I make no promises,” the Outsider answered.

She ducked back into the ship, hurrying down the stairs to retrieve the whiskey bottles. On her way back she stopped in the galley to gather three glasses, and went back to the deck. Pip was still sitting in his corner of the deck with large headphones on, a portable terminal running lines of code she could read from there. 

As soon as she reached the Outsider and Gerome, she tugged on Gerome’s elbow until he sat down with her, and looked expectantly up at the Outsider for him to follow suit. 

The Outsider sat down, cross-legged, watching her, the glass, and the whiskey with equal interest.

Emily uncorked the whiskey with her teeth, then poured an equal share into each glass. “It’s an acquired taste,” she warned the Outsider. “Take a small sip at first.”

The Outsider took a sip, then spluttered. “That is  _ terrible _ !” he managed. “ _ Why would you willingly drink that?!” _

Almost snorting her own whiskey, Emily laughed at the expression on his face. “I said it’s acquired,” she said. “It grows on you. With practice. Here, try this instead.” She unhooked her flask, which was filled with stolen mead that she’d taken from Thom. “It’s not as… medicinal.”

The Outsider took a sip, looking like he was bracing for a blow. As the sweet taste registered, he slowly relaxed. “Better. Less like… fire.”

Gerome laughed, cradling his glass in one hand. “It burns less the more you drink, ‘Bot.”

The Outsider glared at him. “Watch the nickname,  _ Lord Burton. _ ”

Gerome grimaced, pained. “Okay, okay, point fuckin’ taken. Yeesh.”

Emily took the glass away from the Outsider, dumping his share of the whiskey into her own glass. “You can keep the flask,” she said. “I’ll drink pretty much anything.” 

“Just like your Uncle,” Gerome crowed, ruffling her hair.

Rolling her eyes, she tipped her glass to touch his. “You were the one to introduce me to most alcohol,” she said. “Though Daud was the first person to ever give me a drink.”

Gerome paused, drink halfway to his lips. “Wait, really?”

“Yes,” Emily answered. “I was… maybe thirteen? It was after we found out that Renee was only asking to court me because of my title, and I went and hid in the garden. Daud found me, told me that heartbreak can be solved a few ways, one of which was by drink, and he gave me a sip of his flask. It was that Tyvian clearwater oxshit, and it was  _ awful _ .” 

Gerome snorted, tossing back the last of his whiskey. “‘S not so bad if you’re lookin’ to get drunk, fast,” he said. “Yeah, Renee was one of the very few who got past us. Sorry.”

“Well I haven’t touched the stuff since then,” Emily said sourly, drinking her own whiskey. “Not even if you cut it with pear soda like Wyman does. No thanks.” She bumped shoulders with Gerome. “It’s alright, Uncle. Renee was a bit of a choffer, all told. Better off without her.”

Gerome frowned at her. “I’ll let that one pass, because you’re fuckin’ right, but watch your fuckin’ language.” He smirked. “We got someone on board who’s only a few hours old. Don’t wanna pollute his delicate mind.”

“I’m an Empress,” Emily said, wrinkling her nose. “I do what I want. Which includes swearing when the situation calls for it.” 

“It’s fuckin’ unseemly.”

She rolled her eyes. “My father swore  _ all the time _ , you never got after  _ him _ .”

“He didn’t rule the fuckin’ Isles. He was like… halfway to normal. You’re the top noble. You gotta set an example.”

“And so I point out again: right now, I don’t rule any damn thing. I’m Empress in name only. Pretty sure this situation calls for some filthy language, at the very least. Outsider, help me out here!” she said, turning to face him. 

“As your Almost-Stepfather,” he began, “I think a lady should never swear unless the situation is dire.”

Emily blinked at him. “I’m not calling you dad,” she said. “That would just be weird.” She took a sip of her whiskey. “But, this whole situation is pretty dire, wouldn’t you agree?” 

“Immediately dire,” he corrected. “And I am clearly next in line for paternal figure. I am, after all, the only one who’s sane.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Gerome said, shoving at the Outsider. The android barely rocked with the push, turning and smirking at Gerome.

Emily shook her head, thinking it over. “No, I think if I went around calling you father, someone would start asking questions; mainly because you look like you’re my age, Outsider. And I can’t call you Uncle, that would just be confusing… I could call you  _ Zio _ ?” She grinned at him around her glass of whiskey. “Or…  _ Fratello. _ ”

“I dunno what Zio means,” Gerome said, staring at the Outsider meditatively. “But I think he kinda looks like a Zio.”

“It means ‘Uncle’,” the Outsider said. “I forbid you from calling me any variant of that.”   
“Zio it is!”

Emily snickered into her glass. “Sorry, Outsid- I mean, Zio.” 

The Outsider glared at them both. “I believe this is a situation that does call for swearing. Fuck you both.”

Emily fell over, laughing loudly. “I’m sorry,” she said, through her snickering. “If you want me to call you Outsider, I’ll do that, promise.” 

The Outsider scowled. “It’s too late. Nothing will stop Lord Burton from using that name, now.”

Prodding Gerome in the side, Emily said very seriously, “Be nice to the Outsider. Or he’ll probably dump you in the ocean again.” 

Gerome smirked at her. “I think that was more a punishment for you than me,” he teased.

Emily thought about that for a second before shrugging. “I’ll get over it with sufficient exposure, I think,” she said. 

“Ha ha,  _ exposure. _ ”

“Uncle,  _ no _ .” She turned to look at the Outsider. “You can throw him in the ocean again.”

“Acknowledged,” the Outsider replied, putting down the flask and picking Gerome up as if he weighed nothing. Gerome yelped and thrashed out of the android’s hold.

“C’mon, these are my only dry clothes!” he protested.

“Oh my  _ God _ !” Pip shrieked from his place across the deck. “Emily, EmilyEmily _ Emily _ , you have to listen to this-- why… is - who is? Nevermind, not important, come here!” He scrambled up, thrusting his headphones in her direction. 

Emily exchanged a look with the Outsider and Gerome before climbing to her feet and joining Pip. She pressed one side of the headphones to her ear, nodding at Pip to turn up whatever he was listening to. 

There was a short jingle, and some static, before a familiar voice said, “Welcome, listeners! This is Radio Free Dunwall, signing in for another update on the  _ dun dun dun _ , state of the Empire! As usual, I am your charismatic host, R, with my equally charismatic partner, also R, and we’re here to tell you that the  _ bitch _ Delilah is going down.”

She spun around, nearly yanking the headphones out of the terminal. “Uncle!” she said, “It’s Rin and Rulf!”

Gerome whooped and ran to the stairwell. “ _ The Twins are all right!” _ he bellowed down into the ship, to a rising cheer. “What’re they doin’?” he asked, back in a normal volume.

Emily pressed the headphone back to her ear. “Today,” what was unmistakably Rulfio’s voice said, “R and I are here to talk about what we’ve come to know are  _ witches _ . See, way back in the day, when magic existed - no, I promise, dear listeners, we aren’t Overseers in disguise - there were people who could  _ use  _ magic, and they were called witches. So if you’ve seen Delilah’s inner court, teleporting around without the use of Augmentations,  _ that, _ dear friends, is a witch.”

Rinaldo took over the narrative with a snort. “Before you start thinking that witches can’t be defeated, allow us to tell you, that’s not true in the slightest. R and I took down one just last night when she tried to disable Radio Free Dunwall. We rather took umbrage to that, see, and though it took some doing, we defeated her. Here’s your warning, Delilah, you can send as many of those women to us, but freedom will never be silenced!”

Emily laughed, tears clogging her throat. “Those two idiots started a fucking podcast,” she said. Calla and Munchkin came rushing upstairs just in time to hear that.

“They started that up again?” Munchkin said, surprised.

There was a beat of music that Emily briefly recognized as some of the stuff that Daud used to listen to, before Rulfio said, in a much kinder tone, “We have some family out there somewhere. I can’t imagine what they’re going through right now, but they need to know we’re okay. We’re alive, and safe, and a certain little sister of ours should stop feeling guilty for leaving us behind.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “They don’t even need to be here to chastise me,” she muttered. “But they’re okay.”

Munchkin burst into tears at that. “I was so worried about them,” he sobbed. “And I felt so bad!” Calla enveloped him in a hug, rubbing his back.

Rulfio added, after another quick music break, “We have a few messages left before we sign off; so get ready to take some notes!” Emily reached over and unplugged the headphones, letting the terminal play the last bit at full volume. “To our beautiful Morlish Rose: our favorite artist is alright, if not a bit angsty, apparently going through a blue period - whatever that means.”

Calla beamed, the apples of her cheeks flushing red. Gerome punched her lightly in the shoulder, smiling.

“To our little brothers, Munchkin, and Munchkin 2.0, we’ve left you a few treats, and we’ve already started timing you on whether or not you can find them. R says you’ll take about an hour, but I think more. There’s a tin of candied apples riding on this, Munchkin, don’t fail me now!” 

Pip huffed, sitting down in front of the terminal. “More than an hour,  _ please _ ,” he said.

Rinaldo took over, with the sound of scuffling, like the Twins were fighting for the microphone. “And we have to add,” he said, too close to the microphone, “Mama Hagfish, you keep our girl safe, and we stole all your whiskey. Finders Keepers!”

“‘Course I will, you little shits,” Gerome rasped, smiling from ear to ear.

Another sound of scuffling and Rulfio took back over. “Of course, to our favorite dandy and boss-man, we just want you to know that we’re alright, and we’re using all your training to fair effect. And lastly of course, to the littlest sister, you come back to us alive. R and R, out.”

Emily grabbed Cedric in a hug, holding him tightly. 

“That was foolish of them,” Foster said from the doorway. “They may as well be painting a target on their backs.”

Gerome whirled on her with a snarl. “The fuck would you know?” he snapped. “The Twins know what they’re doin’, so keep your fuckin’ opinions to yourself.”

Foster didn’t look impressed, giving Gerome a blank stare. “You don’t know Delilah like I do,” she said. “Now that she knows they exist, she’ll stop at nothing to tear them down, like she’s torn down all her opposition. Your Twins are representative of people rising up against her, and she won’t tolerate that.” She shrugged, with studied nonchalance. “But now that she knows they live, she’ll keep attacking - she’ll get lucky eventually. She always does.”

Gerome stalked up Meagan, stopping just out of arm’s reach. “An’ how the fuck do you know so much about Delilah?” he asked, low and dangerous. Calla cracked her knuckles and watched, ready to step in if necessary.

“My past is my own,” Meagan said. “Delilah was once a part of that past. Clearly she’s no longer in my life, as I am here with you, actively helping to  _ bring her down _ , so back off, Burton.”

Gerome glared. “You could be plannin’ to deliver us to her once we step foot in Dunwall,” he said. “Or usin’ us to trim some loose ends.”

Meagan rolled her one good eye. “Please, Burton, your entire lot has history with Delilah, don’t be a hypocrite.” She shook her head and stepped past him, heading out onto the deck. “I will never step foot in Dunwall again, you have nothing to fear from me.” 

Finally, the Outsider was the one to speak up. “I can vouch for her… dislike of Delilah,” he said, after watching the proceedings with curiosity. “You can trust her to not sabotage your efforts.”

Gerome stared at the Outsider for a moment, then nodded, relaxing his stance.

Thomas climbed over the edge of the ship, laden with bags. “What’d I miss?” he asked, taking in everyone on the deck and Cedric’s tears. “Who made Munchkin cry?”

“We heard from the Twins,” Emily said, pulling away from Cedric. “They started a podcast, we caught one of their transmissions, they’re okay.” 

Thomas’ eyes closed in relief and he dropped the bags. “I’ll let Daud know,” he said, clearing his throat. “Brought you some gifts,” he said, in an obvious gambit to change the subject. “Outsider, some clothing for you, boots, and sunglasses. Gerome, your cigarettes, and some other essentials.” 

“Ooh, clothes,” the Outsider said, fishing through the bags until he found his. “How do I wear them? Nevermind, I can find tutorials online.”

Cedric scrubbed at his face. “I can help you,” he croaked. “Aside from Thomas, I have the best fashion sense.”

Thomas gestured to the bag. “I got an assortment. Nothing too fancy, but enough to blend you in wherever we end up.”

“That is acceptable,” the Outsider said, unbuttoning his top. Cedric squeaked and fluttered around him, shepherding him down the stairs like an anxious butterfly.

Emily went over and collected the glasses and bottles of whiskey, taking what was poured before stoppering the bottle. She handed the glass to Thomas, leaning against the railing of the ship. “Today is a day for revelations,” she murmured. 

He took the glass, draining it. “You holding up okay?” he asked, looking at her over the top of his sunglasses. 

“I’ll be fine,” she answered dismissively. “You should get in touch with Daud soon. Once Anton is awake, we’ll need to move quickly.”

Thomas watched her carefully for a long second. “Sure, Em, he agreed. “Go eat something, please. I brought some food too. Help me bring it down to the galley?” 

Emily shrugged, collecting bags and following Thomas. “I’m not really hungry,” she said, but didn’t protest when Thomas shoved a loaf of bread at her. 

“Eat,” he said. “It’s going to be a long few days.”

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Troo: why yes the Outsider is going around in mirrored aviators from now on. You're welcome for that image.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up there is animal death and harm to animals in this chapter. It doesn't come up again, and it's fairly brief.

“Ashworth,” Sokolov told them after three days of medically induced sleep. “Jindosh always met with the woman Breanna Ashworth,” he said, drinking one of his own elixirs slowly. “She put pressure on him, likely from Delilah, and he would fold under it. If you’re trying to destabilize Delilah, removing Ashworth from her would work nicely.”

Emily leaned back against the worktable, looking over the map for the Cyria Gardens. “Daud, Thom, have either of you been through here recently enough to tell me anything new?” she asked.

Thomas shook his head but Daud nodded. “There’s a recent Black Market shop that’s been set up there, and the Howlers have been tasked to keep it safe, more or less. They won’t cause you any trouble now, but there is a significant Overseer presence.”

“Directly because of the Howlers,” Thomas added. “Where one goes the other inevitably follows.” Emily frowned, thinking it over. “Well, thankfully none of us have obvious Augments, so you two can wander the district easily enough without detection. Uncle will accompany me, since if I tried to send him with you, he’d start yelling,” She grinned at Gerome, “and I know that Pip and Cedric are busy working on establishing a connection with the Twins.” She paused, mostly for effect. “Uncle, you know who has to accompany us, in that case?”

“Aw, fuck no,” Gerome whined. “Not him.

“You can’t really imagine he’d let me out of his sight anymore than you would,” she pointed out.

“He’s just comin’ along for shits an’ giggles, you know that,” Gerome protested. “He probably doesn’t even know how to sneak!”

“He _did_ just call himself my Almost-Stepfather,” Emily said, grinning.

Daud held up a hand. “Who the damn hell are you talking about?” he demanded.

“Me, my _dear_ old friend.” A shadow in the corner of the room rippled, and the Outsider appeared. He prowled forward to stand by Emily, smirking.

Daud stared at him, looking from Emily to the Outsider, rubbing his face with one hand. “ _Fuck no_ , who decided this was a good idea? Do you know what he’s _capable of_ , Empress?”

“Yes,” Emily answered mildly, at the same time as the Outsider saying “Probably”. She shot him an unimpressed look. “I know that he’s spent the last eleven years helping my father, and by extension, me. I also know that despite his obvious dislike for you, he’s here helping anyway. I don’t want to hear another word unless it’s about Breanna Ashworth, the Cyria Gardens, or how to find and defeat her.” She turned her gaze back to the Outsider. “Is there anything you can tell me about Ashworth that might not be common knowledge?”

“She prefers women, controls the Conservatory, and is infatuated with Delilah. Though whether it’s a mutual passion, or whether Delilah just sees her as a pawn remains to be seen. There have also been large shipments of various materials to the Conservatory.”

Emily frowned. “What sort of material?” she asked.

“Whale oil, bone, circuitry, metal sheeting, welding materials… It’s all rather suspicious.”

“Whale oil and bone?” Emily repeated. “That’s technically useless. Why would she need an outdated form of power, and something as technologically dead as bone?” She paused, then tugged off one of the charms that she’d hung from her belt. “Bone like this kind of bone?” she asked the Outsider.

He smiled slowly. “That is the traditional use for it, yes.”

Emily tapped the bone charm against her palm. “Ashworth is trying to… what, make more magic? Build more of these charms - or the, bones that give powers, maybe?” She ticked it over in her head, frowning. “... Or,” she said slowly, seeking out the Outsider’s eyes behind his mirrored sunglasses, “she wants to combine magic and tech, somehow.”

His smile broadened and he nodded. “Very good.”

“You couldn’t have just fuckin’ said that,” Gerome muttered.

The Outsider smirked. “Now, where’s the fun in that?”

Emily sighed, hooking the bone charm back onto her belt. “Children,” she said, scowling at both the Outsider and Gerome. Daud’s expression at that made her hide a smile; he looked a cross between overwhelmed and disbelieving, and she hadn’t seen him look anything other than angry in his entire tenure as her Spymaster.  “So, if Ashworth is trying to combine magic and tech, that would mean - what, spreading magic around where it doesn’t need to go, and just because it’s working out okay with _me_ , doesn’t mean it’ll work out okay with anyone else, right?” she asked the Outsider.

“ _What_ ,” Daud snarled, standing straight.

“... Oops,” Emily said. “Did I forget to tell you?”

Daud growled, and strode over to her with enough menace in his stance that Emily Reached past him and appeared on the other side of the room. “You get back here right now, Empress,”  he snapped. Instead, Emily Reached over to the Outsider and took a place next to him. “Hiding behind the parasite isn’t going to stop me from wringing your neck for keeping that a secret!” Daud said.

“It’s fine!” she yelped. “The Outsider has been monitoring me, and it’s fine!”

The Outsider took his sunglasses off and smiled, slow and dangerous at Daud. “I suggest you stop, _old friend_.”

Daud stopped his slow prowl forward. “This is _dangerous_ ,” he said stubbornly. “Even you must see that.”

“Yeah, we fuckin’ know that,” Gerome said, watching Daud warily.

Daud paused, then made a visibly concentrated effort to stand down. “My point,” he said tightly, “is that these sort of things should be treated with care - Emily, you should have told me, with Corvo gone, it’s up to us to keep you safe, and I can’t do that if I don’t have all the facts.”

Emily made a face, but stepped out from behind the Outsider to stand next to him. “Maybe,” she agreed. “It’s not exactly something you can just… drop on someone though.”

“You just did,” Daud told her, flat and unamused. “Stand down, Burton, I’m not going to hurt the girl, no matter how irritating she is.”

Gerome shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. “Was actually kinda hopin’ you’d try. I wanna see what Pornbot can do.”

“I could always turn those abilities on _you_ ,” the Outsider returned, glaring at Gerome. Gerome just cheerfully flipped him off.

Emily shoved lightly at the Outsider, fully aware that even with her enhanced abilities, he wouldn’t move. “The point,” she said tiredly, “is that Ashworth is trying to combine magic and tech and we can’t let that happen. So, Daud, Thom, head into the Garden district and start mingling, touch base with our Howler friends, and we’ll be along behind you. Cedric made us a secure internal comm connection, if he hasn’t given you the password for it yet, go see him before you two leave.”

Thomas gave her a brief hug, tucking his comm unit in his ear, and stepping out of the room with Daud on his heels. “Emily,” Daud said before he closed the door. “Give us a few hours head start. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“You either,” she said. “Sokolov, you’ve been awfully quiet.”

Sokolov opened his eyes and looked her. “I spent years of my youth trying to crack the code on magic, Emily,” he murmured. “You’ll have to tell me how this happened.”

She smiled. “Sure, Anton. Get some rest, okay? I’ll tell you all about it when we come back from the Conservatory.”

Sokolov stood, shaking a little, and made his way to his small bedroom off the main cabin, . “Be safe, Emily,” he said, and closed the door behind him.

“That could have gone better,” Emily murmured.

“I thought it very entertaining,” the Outsider said, leaning on the table. It creaked alarmingly.

Emily pulled a face. “My relationship with Daud runs an interesting gambit between strange, unspoken remorse, and also his absolute inability to understand human interaction,” she said. “I should have expected that reaction, honestly.”

She pushed away from the creaking table, gathering a few things off of it. She stashed a few of Thomas’ left behind stun mines on her person, shoving the other half at Gerome. “We have about two hours to kill,” she said. “Anything you two need to do in that time?”

“I’ll run some modifications on this body,” the Outsider said, stealing a stun mine from Gerome. “Come find me when you are ready to leave.”

Gerome watched him go. “That is really fuckin’ concernin’,” he stated flatly.

Emily grinned a little. “I don’t know,” she said. “I like it. He seemed… unhappy in my head, this is better.”

Gerome patted her shoulder. “‘S probably because he’s mournin’,” he said. “Bein’ in someone else’s head probably felt like some sorta betrayal or somethin’.”

“That makes it worse, Uncle!” Emily hissed. “Thanks for that, ugh.” She shoved him, not hard enough to move him, before leaning her forehead on his shoulder. “Father’s loss is bad on its own, but thinking about… _eleven years_ , that’s my entire life as Empress. I can’t even imagine.”

“Keep in mind he’s a program, and old as balls,” Gerome advised. “He probably doesn’t see the world the same way we do. He’s probably processin’ his grief different too.”

Emily thought that through and nodded slowly. “Probably,” she agreed. “Good point.” She tilted her head to look up at him. “How are _you_ holding up?” she asked, gently.

“Ah, don’t worry ‘bout me, Sparrow,” he said, ruffling her hair fondly. “I’m copin’, same as you.”

Emily wrinkled her nose, but nodded. She’d been avoiding thinking about her father since she, Gerome and Thomas had all gotten drunk - it was easier than trying to work through the tangle of thoughts and ever-present grief inside her head. She pulled away from Gerome, picking up her sword and her father’s pistol, hooking them to her belt. “We should eat something,” she said. “Thomas brought back provisions, there has to be something in the kitchen.”

Gerome frowned. “I suppose I can cook up somethin’. Not so good at the Serkonan shit, but I can fuckin’ try.”

“Sounds good to me,” Emily said. “I’m sure you’ll do fine.” She pushed open the door and gestured impatiently to Gerome. “Well, come on! I’m hungry.”

*

“This place fuckin’ reeks of too many flowers,” Gerome complained.

“It’s a Garden District, Uncle,” Emily replied, crouched on a balcony overseeing the Conservatory. “Better than some of the things we could be walking through,” she added. “And look, I can see Daud, and Thom,” she pointed down to street level.

The Outsider peered over the edge. “I think I could land on Daud if I jumped from here,” he mused.

Emily grabbed the back of his belt. “Please do not,” she said.

“But his expression promises to be so entertaining.”

She tightened her grip on his belt. “We are supposed to be quiet, stealthy and undercover,” she reminded him. “You might be able to drop down onto Daud while completely invisible, but he will draw attention when he crumples under _nothing_. Just throw him off the Dreadful Wale when we get back later, okay?”

Gerome grimaced. “Please don’t fuckin’ encourage him. He’s just bein’ a shit.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “Look, Daud and Thom can handle themselves with the guards - can you two reach that ledge?” she asked, pointing a few feet away. “The plants are big enough that we can walk along the edge and make it to that open window.” She made another gesture. “Which gets us inside.”

“I can, but perhaps Lord Burton’s advanced age would prevent-”

“Oh, fuck you. I’ll fuckin’ show you advanced age, you little shit.”

Before either of them could do more than scowl at each other, Emily Reached across the gap and landed neatly in the foliage. She tapped her comm unit, and said, smirking, “you both lose. Hurry up, I’m not waiting for either of you old men to get over here.”

The Outsider leapt easily across the gap, while Gerome had to back up and Dash to make it.

“Don’t fuckin’ say it,” he warned the Outsider, who was smirking at him.

Ignoring them, Emily slipped along the ledge onto the side of the building, and with a quick glance, ascertained that the window was not, in fact, alarmed in any way. “This is the main museum, isn’t it?” she asked, frowning at the lack of a security system. “Why is everything offline? These windows should be alarmed to the Void and back.”

Gerome shrugged. “Maybe it’s a magic thin’,” he said. “Y’know, magic not workin’ with delicate tech and so on?”

“Hm. Maybe.” Emily climbed in without further ado, stepping out into a room that barely resembled something found in a museum. There were cots, futons, and mattresses scattered around the room, the paintings on the walls were defaced, the sculptures removed or outright broken.

Gerome made a wounded noise, staring at the destruction.

Emily’s hand burned a little, and she looked down at it, seeing the glow of her mark through the gloves. “There’s a _lot_ of magic here,” she said, shaking her left hand. “I can feel it in my hand, and it’s a little hard to breathe through it,” she said, pressing her free hand to her chest. “It’s heavy.”

The Outsider frowned. “I… I cannot feel it.” He sounded disturbed by the realisation.

“Why do you _want_ to?” Emily asked incredulously. “This is awful.”

“It’s just somewhat disconcerting to not be able to feel as you do.” He frowned down at his hands.

Gerome was frowning at the android. “You gonna be okay?”

“Is that concern, Burton?” the Outsider teased. “I’m touched.”

“Touched in the fuckin’ head is what you are,” Gerome retorted, but patted the Outsider’s shoulder, to the other’s obvious confusion.

Emily looked down at her flickering mark, and suddenly found herself a few feet away, wedged between a futon and the wall. “What the _fuck_ ,” she said. The futon was just heavy enough that she couldn’t quite turn around, and she pushed uselessly at it as her enhanced strength failed her. “Uncle,” she said, trying to keep her voice level but unable to entirely scrub it of growing nerves. “ _I_ didn’t do that. And I’m stuck.”

There was a telling silence. Then she heard a strangled noise, like someone trying very hard not to laugh.

The Outsider pulled the futon away from the wall, just enough for her to escape. Then he let it thump back down. Gerome, meanwhile, was clearly struggling to keep a straight face.

Emily rubbed her side where the futon had pressed uncomfortably against it. “Uncle, twenty minutes ago I could have picked up that futon with one hand,” she pointed out, ignoring his laughter. “And my magic _activated on its own_.”

As though waiting for that cue, her hand flickered, and Emily found herself back by the window, one knee balanced on the sill.

“Well shit,” Gerome said, sobering. “Maybe you should sit this one out, Sparrow. The last thing we need is you teleportin’ into the middle of a fuckin’ patrol.”

Emily scowled at him. “There is less than no chance of me letting you two go off alone,” she said. “We’ll figure it out as we go, but look at this place, can you imagine that there are many guards around here?”

“Can you imagine such a delicate operation be left unguarded?” the Outsider asked, raising an eyebrow. He gestured at the bedding. “Clearly there are people living here.”

“Yes, but I doubt they’re the Grand Guard,” Emily said. “Besides, neither of you can feel the Void,” she added firmly. “I can tell what direction we should go in to find the highest concentration of magic here. That will narrow things down.”

Gerome pursed his lips. “I hoped they haven’t fuckin’ trashed the rest of the place. There’s some originals here!”

Following the pull of the Void, Emily moved out of the room and into the hall. Her dark vision activated on its own, just in time to see someone teleport into the end of the hall. Their back was to Emily and Emily immediately forced her mark to behave, dissolving into shadow and swarming down the hall to knock the woman down.

A second later, the woman - the witch, she must have been one of those witches that Rin and Rulf had been talking about - fell unconscious, and Emily stepped away from her, letting the shadows fall away. She staggered a little, and cracked open a solution, draining it. “At least the magic works when I want it to,” she muttered.

“We just need to have it not do shit when we _don’t_ want it,” Gerome said, catching up.

“It’s a work in progress,” Emily admitted. “We need to go up,” she said. “Whatever they’re doing with magic, it’s almost directly above us.”

“Let us go, then,” the Outsider said, gazing upwards.

Emily peered through the half-open door leading to the central room, and swore softly. The witch they’d already taken out was just one of many. “There are,” she said, narrowing her eyes and sweeping her dark gaze over what she could see, “at least twelve witches in there,” she reported.

“Fuck,” Gerome swore. “Looks like we’ll need to find another way, then.”

“What we need is right smack in the middle of all of them,” Emily said, feeling out the pull in her chest. “But, we can find the stairs to the basement here, and get into the elevator from there. That will put us on the right level, which will help.” She pulled away from the door and closed it gently. “If I recall correctly, the stairs are at the other end of the this -” She found herself at the bottom of the stairs, “-hallway,” she finished, sighing.

There was a distant curse from above, indicating Gerome’s opinion on the matter. He bounded down the stairs, muttering under his breath. The Outsider just cleared the steps with a leap, thumping down near Emily.

“I do enjoy this body’s superior durability and strength,” he said, rising from his crouch.

“Show off,” Emily said. Movement caught her eye and she grabbed the Outsider’s arm, stopping him from walking down the second set of stairs into the basement. “There’s something down there. A hound? It’s animal shaped.”

She slipped down the stairs, scanning for the trapped animal, waiting for it come around one of the counters.

It was like no dog Emily had ever seen. As soon as it came into the room, its head raised, sniffing her out and Emily backed up quickly. “I have no idea what that thing is, but I don’t think it’ll respond to Overseer commands,” she said.

Gerome made a horrified noise. “What the fuck?! What the ever-lovin’ _fuck_ ?! _I am so fuckin’ sick of fuckin’ magic!”_

The hound crossed in front of the stairs, but merely sat down at the foot of the stairs, and then - for lack of a better term - disappeared in a gout of yellow flame, leaving behind nothing but a hound’s skull. It remained on fire, but the floor around it didn’t burn. Emily squeaked, backing up another step. “That’s just unsettling,” she said.

“Nope, fuck this, I’m done.”

Emily eyed the skull carefully. “It’s already dead, isn’t it?” she asked the Outsider.

The Outsider shrugged. “Mostly. They’re usually made from skinning a hound alive during a ritual.”

Gerome gagged. “That’s fuckin’ sick,” he croaked.

Emily grabbed her silenced pistol taking careful aim. The bullet hit the skull and shattered it, the fire gouting once last time before the whole thing disappeared into nothingness. “Let’s go,” she murmured. “Nothing else is moving down here, and we can take out the dogs if they’re… not moving around.”

She moved down the stairs quickly, stepping over where the hound had last lay. The basement was full of paintings and sculptures, and Emily looked over the haphazardly piled canvases, frowning a little when the magic inside her twinged. She pulled off an oil cloth tarp and blinked down at the paintings.

Each one she could see was painted over with a glowing blue paint, defacing the classics that Gerome had spent years educating her on. The blue paint that definitely exuded an aura of Void hadn’t been painted on with any sort of skill, it was just splashed over each work like a child had finger-painted across it.

She dropped the cloth down before Gerome could see it, moving on to one of the long tables, reaching out and picking up a bone charm that was nestled into velvety purple fabric.

“Hm, found another charm,” she said. She hooked it to her belt, but didn’t feel any different after. The rest of the table only turned up some random coins and change which she pocketed.

The feeling of magic intensified as they turned the corner, and paused. “There’s a witch in there,” she said. “And…”

She was cut off by a horrible sound, the squealing yelp of an injured hound. It whined sharply, then stopped abruptly, as the wet noises of blood hitting stone reached them. Emily paled, and stepped out of the way of Gerome.

Gerome’s face twisted in rage, and he blurred forward to run the woman through. He shoved her off of his short sword, disgust writ large across his face.

He crouched next to the dog, making soft shushing noises. His grey eyes darted over the wounded, bloody, shaking animal and his mouth tightened. He gently tilted its chin up and quickly cut its throat.

“Sorry, pup,” he whispered. “May your next life be easier.”

Emily came up behind him, lightly touching his shoulder, before leaving him be. The room was dominated by a large table, but it was covered in blood and other unfortunate things, as well as several bloodfly husks. The right side of the room was more painting storage, but the left was a locked office. The windows were bars, and Emily narrowed her eyes at them, sliding into shadows, and worming her way through them to step into the office.

She unlocked the door and started searching through Ashworth’s things. “... Hey, Outsider?” she said, looking down at the tablets scattered around.

“Hm?”

“I think I just figured out how to make that invisibility stealth mod of yours _really_ count,” she said. She flicked through pages on the datapad. “This… Void device of hers, it has a lot of language I don’t understand but, it requires treated lenses that Jindosh made for her because the ones she made didn’t work - the ones she made, either close the Void to her, or… cut her off from it, I can’t quite tell. Either way, she locked the broken lens up in her office, on the fourth floor, that we can’t get to because of those witches.”

“You want me to steal them?” he asked, amused.

“I absolutely want you to steal them,” Emily said, showing him a picture of the lenses in question.

The Outsider studied it, then and began to strip.

Sighing, Emily held out her bag so he could put his things into it. The Outsider pouted at her lack of reaction.

“Oh however shall I deal with seeing your naked flesh,” she deadpanned. “Happy now?”

The Outsider sighed, going invisible. “You just take all the fun out of it,” he said, his voice coming from seemingly-empty air.

Folding her bag closed, Emily rolled her eyes. “Go tap Uncle on the shoulder if you want a better reaction,” she said. “I already knew your clothes don’t disappear with you, go try that on someone else.”

There was a huff. “No, the moment has passed.”

Emily grinned to herself. “And,” she said lightly. “Just so you know… I can still see you.” She reached out and poked him in the nose. “Have fun stealing things.”

Emily was patted on the head, and then the Outsider ran off.

She made her way out to where Gerome still sat with the dog, and she settled next to him, leaning her temple on his shoulder. “You okay?” she asked.

“Hate seein’ animals hurt,” he muttered. “An’ you always gotta kill the fuckers who do that, because someone who can do this to a dog would easily do this to a person.”

Emily tightened her grip on Gerome. “You saved him from being turned into one those things,” she said. “And we’re getting a whole litter of puppies when we get back to Dunwall,” she decided. “You can train the head of the kennel yourself.” She paused. “You just can’t name any of them.”

“‘Dinner’, ‘New Boots’, an’ ‘Fuckface’ are perfectly good names,” Gerome said with exaggerated dignity.

“Lords don’t swear, and neither do Empresses, and I’m not yelling ‘Hey Fuckface!’ to get a dog’s attention, _ever_ ,” she said.

“How bout we name one after Daud? Imagine his face!” Gerome grinned weakly, still unsettled by the hurt animals.

Emily snorted. “Daud would throw a fit. We have to do it.”

“Fuckin’ perfect,” Gerome said, standing up and dusting off his knees. He held out a hand to help Emily up. “Dinner an’ New Boots are still happenin’, though, right?”

“How about just ‘Boots’,” Emily suggested, letting him pull her up.

Gerome mulled it over, then nodded. “Fine, I can fuckin’ compromise.”

Emily dusted off her pants. She broke away from Gerome to go around the table, searching through the mess the witches had left behind. There wasn’t much that was interesting, but she pulled out another strange painting from between two oil canvases. It looked like the one she’d found in Hypatia’s office. This one was obviously Breanna Ashworth, and she spun it to show Gerome.

“Do you think Delilah painted this?” she wondered.

“Makes sense,” he said, rubbing his chin and producing a sound like sandpaper rasping. “It’s got Sokolov’s realism underneath, but the colours an’ style are just so fuckin’ garish.”

“You want to take it?” Emily asked. “You know more about art than I could ever remember.”

Gerome shrugged and cut it out of the frame. “‘S probably not worth that much, but every bit helps, right?” He tucked it into his coat.

“Pretty much,” Emily agreed, leaning the now empty frame back against the wall.

“By the way,” Gerome said, looking around. “Where’d Step-Bot go?”

“Right here,” the Outsider said, dropping his cloaking next to Gerome. Gerome startled badly, nearly tripping over his own feet as he backpedalled.

“Fuck me!” he yelped. The Outsider smirked and sauntered up to him, hips swaying.

“Why, my dear Gerome,” he purred, advancing on an increasingly horrified Gerome. “I thought you’d _never_ ask.” He stroked a hand down Gerome’s chest while Gerome attempted to burrow backwards through the wall to get away.

“Em?!” He pleaded.

“Oh no,” she said. “Who am I to get in the way of love?” She grinned at the Outsider, ignoring Gerome’s increasingly pleading expression. “Please return him in the condition found,” she said, “And give me those lenses, I can finish up while you two get… better acquainted.”

There was a very soft “please don’t leave me,” from Gerome. The Outsider just handed over the lenses, smirking all the while.

“At least I can always rely on Burton to be entertaining,” he said.

“Fuc- Screw… Dammit, I can’t even think of a fuckin’ way to cuss you out, you absolute shit!”

Emily leaned over the Outsider’s shoulder, handing him his clothing. “And you say I don’t play along,” she scolded. “Get dressed, and then we should go up to the third floor. I have a few ideas about how to get rid of these witches.”

The Outsider let Gerome sidle away, and pulled on the clothing. “Should I be worried?” he asked mildly.

“I read over those datapads, and if we activate the portal with the wrong lenses, the Void goes… wrong, and it should draw Breanna out of wherever she is,” Emily said, gesturing with her stolen ‘pad. “If we remove her magic, we remove the witches around her too.”

“I dunno how that would work,” Gerome muttered, moving so that Emily was between him and the Outsider. “But you’re the one with the spooky hellscape connection.”

“Sadly I think the answer to how it works falls under ‘because magic, that’s why’,” Emily said. Gerome looked disgusted. “Sorry, Uncle,” she said.

Once the Outsider was fully dressed, she slid into the elevator, and waited for them to catch up. The elevator was a classic, a rickety thing that had long gone out of style in the newer high rises of large cities. But it rose smoothly when she pressed the button for the third floor.

The third floor was no different than the others, with tipped over shelves, broken statues, and various other graffiti decorating the floor, works, and windows. The magic pulsed inside her chest, and Emily took a few steps forward without wanting to. “We are _definitely_ in the right place,” she said, gesturing forward. There was a wide open area where bookshelves had once been but were instead shoved off to one side.

Blue paint and whale oil were splashed all over the floor, the glow obvious even in the lights. There was a witch hovering over it, and more above and below them. They would have to work fast. “Uncle, can you get the witch to leave and come closer to us?” she asked, in the shadows of a tall bookshelf. “Then we can examine the machine without interference, more or less.”

The magic pulsed again, and Emily leaned heavily on the shelf.

Gerome leaned out from the cover of his own shelf and whistled sharply. The witch looked up and headed toward them, teleporting every second step until she was right by their shelves. As soon as the witch drew even with him, he reached out and snagged her, dragging her into a chokehold and leaving her unconscious in the mess behind them.

Emily slipped around the shelves, and headed toward the mess of machinery and magic that dominated the area. As soon as she crossed over the whale oil paint, the world slowed down, turning blue and hazy around the edges. The mark on her hand flared, but she didn’t Reach, instead the edges of her awareness got sharper, and she turned slowly in place, looking around.

The magic ripped through her, and the Void, it had to be the Void, swirled around her. She couldn’t see Gerome or the Outsider, not past the wind. She went for the machine, hunching her shoulders against the magic, and carefully replaced the lenses that kept the Void at bay.

The magic collapsed around her, and suddenly Emily could breathe again. The machine was a monstrous amalgamation of tech and bone, and Emily narrowed her eyes when she looked into the heart of it and found a literal, actual heart. The mark pulsed again, and Emily reached out and removed it, holding it carefully between her hands.

She didn't know what it did, but it the magic inside her wanted it close. She put it in her bag, and stepped out of the circle. “It’s ready,” she said. “I replaced the lenses, and the Void seems to have calmed down a little.” She rubbed her arms. “That was… weird.”

“What’s it feel like?” Gerome asked.

“Cold,” she answered. “Electric. Lonely. It was… I don’t know, it sounds insane, but I could hear it. It was… sad.” She made a face. “I know, I sound crazy.”

“Yeah, but you’re my crazy person.” Gerome pulled her into a hug.

She hugged him back quickly, pointing with her other hand. “If we get out of the circle and pull that, it should work,” she said.

“I hope so.”

Emily tugged him out of the circle, and said, “I’m going to look real stupid if this doesn’t work.” Making sure Gerome and the Outsider were outside the circle of oil and bone, Emily reached out and pulled the lever.

All hell broke loose.

The Void screamed, wind tearing around the room, throwing books off the shelves, and knocking Gerome back a few steps, away from Emily. The Outsider planted his feet and watched. Ashworth flickered into the space they’d vacated, looking horrified, as the Void tore open in front of her.

Emily held up a hand against the wind, as Ashworth stumbled forward, screaming over the sound of the Void. Something tore free of her, black shadows and magic, disappearing into the Void.

The lever dropped down, the wind stopped as though it had never been. Ashworth crumbled to her knees, sobbing raggedly, as the Void slowly folded into itself, and disappeared.

Everything was very silent, except for the ringing in Emily’s ears.

“Uncle…?” she said faintly. “Uncle, I don’t feel right.”

“Shit, Em? _Emily!”_

*

Emily opened her eyes to the Void.

It wasn’t exactly like she was expecting; less blue and more cold, grey and filled with black stone. She turned slowly in place, trying to orient herself, but the Void didn’t obey physical laws, like gravity.

Just above her head floated another rock with an upside down table stuck to it, an ancient whale oil lamp guttering in the wind. Slowly, uncertain of her footing, Emily stepped forward, through the giant stone arch in front of her. Movement flickered, and Emily instinctively went for her sword, but found it - like all her weapons - were completely gone.

“Now, now,” the familiar voice of Delilah purred in her ear. “Is that any way to treat family?”

Emily opened her mouth to reply but found her voice stolen by the Void or by Delilah.

Delilah stepped in front of her, looking her over. “So very much Jessamine’s daughter,” she tsked. “Surprised to see me, here in this place?” she asked, backing away from Emily. “I learned how to access the Void long ago. And now, here we are; your father, cold stone, and you, hiding away like a _rat_.” Emily snarled, but even that sound was lost to the Void.

“But, when I was young, sweet Jessamine and I shared a secret,” Delilah said, “We were as close as sisters, you see… Emperor Kaldwin had another daughter, born in shame to one of the kitchen maids.”

She turned then, sentence trailing off, before vanishing entirely. Emily paused, wracking her brain, what had happened before she’d come here? They’d gotten to the Garden District, followed Thom and Daud’s hints through the area, and made it to the Conservatory. There had been witches, and the Void was open… they’d cut off Ashworth’s magic.

Emily looked down at her hands, tugging off her left glove and finding the mark somewhat muted but still with her. When she went to use it though, nothing happened, and the Void shuddered around her. She hadn’t lost her magic because of what happened in the Conservatory then, this was Delilah’s doing.

With no other choice but to press forward, Emily followed the path laid out for her.

“During the day,” Delilah’s voice said, before Emily saw her appear on a ledge of black stone above her, “Jessamine and I played games together, but at night I’d go back to the servant’s quarters to bugs, and rats, and gruel.” She flickered and appeared in front of Emily. “But of course, the Emperor would visit me, and tell me if I was _good_ , I could go to Court next year like Jessamine, that I’d be a princess, just like her.”

Delilah moved closer to Emily, ignoring her recoil. “Then, one day, Jessamine broke something. It was worth a fortune, and of course we were caught by the Spymaster. _Jessamine blamed me_ . I was whipped in the garden until I _bled_. They threw us out, mother lost her job, and we were on the street with no place to sleep.

“My mother and I saw the worst Dunwall had to offer,” Delilah said, turning her back on Emily and looking out over the expanse of nothing in the Void. “Your mother died quick, but mine died in prison for her debts.” She turned, a horrible smile on her face with empty, blank eyes over it. “I swore one day I would have my revenge,” she said. “I survived the worst your Empire had to offer. Well, niece. _Now it’s your turn.”_

Then, Delilah was gone, ash and smoke curling around where she’d been.

For one terrifyingly long moment, Emily thought she was trapped, but when she turned around there was a swirling portal.

Emily wasn’t sure where it led, but it was better than staying on a floating rock in the middle of an empty Void.

She touched the edges of the swirling maelstrom with her left hand, and was dragged through. For the second time in an as many hours, everything went dark.

Eventually she became aware of sound around her, and warm under her cheek. She could smell the familiar cigarettes that Gerome preferred, and the faint cologne that Thomas wore, and forced her eyes to open. “Uncle?” she murmured, only half managing to look around the room; it was bright, and the light stabbed daggers into her eyes when she tried to find him in the room.

“Hey, Sparrow, take it easy, alright?” Gerome’s familiar, calloused hands smoothed her hair back.

“What happened?” she said, barely managing a whisper.

A synthetic voice piped up from across the room. “You were hit by the backlash from the Void and fainted.”

She frowned, trying to look toward the Outsider. “I woke up in the Void,” she said, leaving her eyes closed. “Or… I think I did. How long was I unconscious?”

“Half the day,” Gerome said tightly. “You had us worried.”

“... Didn’t feel like that long inside the Void,” Emily said. “Minutes, at the most.” She turned her head toward Gerome. “Sorry, Uncle.”

He patted her shoulder. “Not your fault. This magic shit is new to all of us.”

“If you could avoid making the old man call me in a panic, I’d appreciate it, little sister,” Thomas said, from somewhere behind her.

“Sorry, Thom,” she said. She managed to sit up, leaning heavily against the wall, and slit her eyes open. The light was still too bright but it was more manageable. Thomas was on a chair in the corner, a datapad on his lap, while Gerome sat on the bed with her. The Outsider however, was sitting on a table by the room’s only exit, feet up on the chair. “What happened to Ashworth after I went down?”

“Her magic was stripped from her,”  the Outsider said, watching Emily with a faint smile. “With the abrupt shattering of her connection to the Void, so too was her spirit. She is useless to Delilah, now.”

“Fitting,” Emily said. “Did you just panic and flee the area with me, Uncle, or did you canvas the area further?” she asked, smiling a little.

Gerome sighed. “I didn’t fuckin’ panic,” he said.

“Only because I assured him you would recover,” the Outsider interjected. Gerome shot him a sour look.

“ _Anyways_ ,” he grumbled. “I got the thingy that caught your eye, an’ some other shit we can sell. Got you out right after, though. Met some of the Howlers, who loaned us this safehouse.”

“Love you too, Uncle,” she murmured. “Outsider, you know a lot about the Void, right?” she said, thinking over her conversation with Delilah.

“I have access to all data concerning it, yes.”

“You know more than that, asshole,” Gerome interrupted. “I’m fuckin’ sick of you dancin’ around the subject.”

The Outsider glared at him. “I _wanted_ to tell her at my own pace, thank you very much.”

“Your own pace is too fuckin’ slow!”

Emily raised both her eyebrows. “I’m sitting right here,” she reminded them. “What are you two fighting about now?”

The Outsider looked at Thomas. “This doesn’t leave this room,” he said. “If you tell anyone, I will break your neck.”

Thomas gave him a disdainful look. “Please,” he said. “Like I hadn’t it figured out ten years ago.”

The Outsider’s lip curled a little, then he turned back to Emily. “A few thousand years ago, I was caretaker and avatar of the Void.”

Emily blinked at him. “Pull the other one,” she said.

He smiled a little. It wasn’t a nice smile. “Bitingly cold, endless twilight, distant whalesong, black slate rock… Sound familiar?”

She frowned, tilting her head to the side. “No whales,” she said. “And it was… grey. Like storm clouds. But… the other things, those were right.” She took a second to absorb that before asking, “how exactly does the avatar of the Void become an AI?”

“Black magic and the possession of a soul,” he said. “Even ageless gods get lonely. The rest is in your history books. Just look up the creation of the first AI.”

“Father had me do that during school,” Emily said. “The AI was never named though and it was dubbed a failed experiment by some scientist named V. Moray. That was _you_?”

“Dear old Vera,” the Outsider murmured, his smile sharp like a blade. “How… driven, she was. How full of hunger for validation. Your uncle made her acquaintance years ago.”

Gerome grimaced. “She was fucked up and batshit. An’ that’s all I’m gonna say on the matter. Fuckin’ crazy nanite bitch.”

Emily thought about that and decided not to ask. “So when I found that shrine… that’s why you were so upset.” She tugged off her glove, tilting the back of her left hand toward the Outsider. “This isn’t just _a_ mark, it’s _your_ mark, isn’t it?”

The Outsider rested his chin on one hand, looking at the mark impassively. “When I left the Void, it was dying. Becoming inert. Without anyone there to channel its power, marks such as yours should be impossible.”

“When I was in the Void,” Emily said thoughtfully. “Delilah was there - I couldn’t speak, or use my magic, and she told me this ridiculous story about being Grandfather Euhorn’s illegitimate child, but, more importantly she said she learned to access the Void years ago. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but…” she trailed off. “The Void was. Desolate, empty. Whatever she did to ‘access’ it, it wasn’t pretty.”

The Outsider’s lip curled into a snarl. “She has no idea what she’s doing,” he snapped. “The Void is an ancient, primordial force. It doesn’t change. She’s dragged it from its slumber too early, and this will have lasting repercussions on reality. Stupid, thoughtless, and short-sighted.”

Emily pressed her lips together, watching the Outsider carefully. “Do I need to stop using the magic?” she asked him.

“Hardly,” he scoffed. “The damage is done. You can no more affect it as a raindrop affects an ocean.”

Her head still hurt from the magical backlash, the light made her eyes hurt, and Emily scowled. “Are you actually angry with me, or are you just taking out how you feel on me because I’m the closest person to you? Because this isn’t actually my fault and if I could fix it, I would.”

The Outsider blinked at her. “I… suppose I was being unduly harsh. I apologise.”

She sighed. “I get it. Delilah woke up _your_ Void, and used it to turn father into stone, and it’s just… it’s all fucked.” Emily tried to find a smile from somewhere but imagined it fell completely flat.

“Language,” Gerome muttered around a cigarette.

“Dire circumstances,” she replied without missing a beat.

“I suppose we _are_ rather alike in circumstance,” the Outsider said. “Delilah has taken everything from us, hasn’t she?”

“Yeah,” Emily whispered. “She really has.” She cleared her throat, blinking back tears of pain. “The question remains though… how do we get rid of her?”

“We need to find out how and where she gained contact with the Void, and then cut her off.”

Thomas cleared his throat quietly, standing and tossing Emily his datapad. “I had a few ideas,” he said. “We know that Delilah is close with Luca Abele, since her face is plastered all over everything around here, and she arrived with him. While you were sleeping, Daud and I went back to the Conservatory and went through everything we could find there. Our next stop should be Aramis Stilton,” he said. “Apparently, a number of years ago, he hosted a party and went missing immediately after. No one has seen him since, but word has it that Ashworth, Kirin, and Hypatia were all invited as well as Abele himself.” He shrugged one shoulder. “It seems like a good lead, and, Stilton’s old mansion is in the Dust District, finding our way in will be easy with the Howlers on our side.”

“It’s a good a plan as any,” Emily agreed. “Thom, why don’t you and Daud go on ahead, back to Batista - We can let everyone else know what’s going on, and meet you there in a day or two?”

“Make it two, little sister, you look like you died and came back to life,” Thomas said, ruffling her hair. “See you in two days.”

“Don’t even joke,” Gerome grumbled, crossing his arms.

Thomas grinned at him. “Death warmed over?” he suggested.

Gerome studied Emily with a critical eye. “Like she went drinkin’ with me an’ Cal,” he said, decisively.

Emily scoffed. “I would never be so stupid as to think I could manage that,” she said. “Go find Daud, Thom.”

He tipped a wink at her, nodded at Gerome and dropped an elaborate bow in front of the Outsider. “Void God,” he said, cheeky. He Dashed from the room before the Outsider could dole out retribution, but Emily could hear him laughing down the hall outside.

“They used to make sacrifices to me, you know,” the Outsider grumbled. “Used to fear me and worship me, and now all I get is impudence.”

Emily snickered quickly. “You’re very scary, Step-Bot,” she said loyally.

He directed his indignant glare at her, then turned it on Gerome. “You and your nicknames.”

Gerome just grinned, unrepentant.

“Well, at least this one is half true?” she said, smirking. “Compared to his other o-- oh my _god_ , I just realized the implications behind ‘Pornbot.’ Uncle! Gross!” She pushed him, covering her face with one hand.

Gerome cackled. The Outsider sulked.

Emily groaned, flopping back over on the bed. “That is so much more than I wanted to know about my father and his _anything_ , thank you so much for those mental images.” She looked over at the Outsider. “Step-Bot is better, and you know, far less offensive. I hope.”

The Outsider nodded regally.  “It is acceptable.”

“We should head back to the Dreadful Wale soon,” Emily said without moving from her spot on the cot. “Cedric must be worrying himself sick by now.”

Gerome pressed a hand to her forehead, pushing her back down. “I’ll call him. Get some rest, Sparrow. You look like shit.”

“Thanks, Uncle,” she murmured sarcastically. “Wake me up in a few hours?” she asked.

“Go to sleep, sweetheart. Your Step-Bot an’ I’ll keep watch.”

It wasn’t hard to let herself drift off again, the pounding in her head soothed by the familiar smell of Gerome lighting up another cigarette, and the darkness of closing her eyes. Safe, Emily let herself fall asleep.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Outsider, God of the Void, The Great Leviathan gets a new title: Casual Nudist


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up, this is where we go nuts with the horror. Gerome is Not Comfortable With This.

When they stepped into the locked foyer that made up the entrance to Aramis’ Stilton’s manor house, Paolo, Thomas and Daud were already waiting for them. Daud was frowning at the lock, while Thomas was openly laughing at him. Paolo stood straight when Emily walked in, flanked by Gerome and the Outsider. “I can get you into the lock,” Paolo said when they drew even. “But once you’re in there, you’re on your own. That place....” he shook his head, “it’s gone  _ bad _ , and I’m not risking my boys for your wild chase.”“No,” Emily assured him, “I wouldn’t expect you to. It’s fine, Gerome, Outsider and I will go in.”

Daud cleared his throat. 

“Daud is coming too,” Emily added without missing a beat. Gerome snickered.

Paolo glanced at him, nodding slowly. “Look,” he said. “Stilton is… was… a good man. Be gentle.” He pulled open the double doors leading to the courtyard of the once-opulent mansion. It was a ruin, dust piles caught in every corner, but the manor itself was shockingly dilapidated, overgrown, with large chunks of masonry missing. 

“Stilton still lives here?” Emily asked, blinking in shock at the ruins. 

Hesitating, Paolo eventually nodded. “He’s in there,” Paolo said. “But I wouldn’t call it living.”

Emily frowned, looking away from the house to meet Paolo’s eyes. “What would you call it?” she wondered.

“Dying slowly,” Paolo said bluntly. “You’ll see what I mean.” He stepped away from the doors. “I’m closing you in once you’re ready. People been trying to break in for years, you don’t want to be disturbed by some idiot looter.” 

She could easily imagine that going poorly. “Thank you,” she said. “Come on. We should get started.” 

Without further ado, Emily stepped into the courtyard, the others at her heels. As soon as the doors closed behind her, echoing with an ominous boom, the world went sideways. Just like inside the Conservatory, the Void pressed in on her, making her limbs heavy and her breathing labored. “Shit,” she said, her vision starbursting. Emily stumbled over a chunk of broken cobblestone, dropping to one knee when her wobbling vision made nausea curl tightly around her throat. “Not this again,” she whined, trying to breathe through the upswell of her stomach. “The Void is… misbehaving,” she choked out. 

Daud stepped forward and lifted her by her elbow, holding her steady. “Do you need to sit this one out?” he asked her. 

Despite her nausea, Emily scowled. “No, just give me a little to get used to it.” She slid her bag off her shoulders, letting it fall; the missing weight made her feel better. “Outsider, what can I do to mitigate this?” 

The Outsider crouched in front of her, peering into her face. This close, she could see the lenses of his eyes adjust as he focussed on her. “Where is the device you took from the portal?”

“Bag,” she said, pointing to the pack she’d just abandoned. 

The Outsider fished around in her bag, coming out with the device.

“So the Doodad is goin’ to help her?” Gerome asked skeptically.

Daud lifted an eyebrow. “She has magic, but a magic object is too much for you to accept, Burton?” he asked dryly.

“I fuckin’ hate this magic shit,” he muttered. “An’ I’m just findin’ it surprisin’, is all. Most of the time we ain’t so lucky.”

The Outsider studied the device. “It’s a very delicate instrument, made to channel and access the Void to allow passage through time,” he said acerbically. “It is not a ‘Doodad’.”

“Looks like a Doodad to me.” Gerome grinned, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

“Emily, if you are to vomit, please do it in Lord Burton’s shoes.”

“Tempting,” she murmured, gripping Daud’s arm for balance. “Wait, wait,  _ wait _ . You said, channel and access the Void… to travel through time. Does that mean what I think it means?”

“That depends on what you think it means. Ah, there we are.” The Doodad hummed to life, panes of glass or crystal unfolding like insect wings.

Emily let go of Daud and swayed dangerously, but took the device, cradling it carefully in both hands. The panels of glass were dark, but she turned it this way and that, and once she took it away from where the Outsider was kneeling, the panels lit up, showing her the fountain in the center of the courtyard, lit up with fairy lights and LEDs, flowing with clear water. 

“Whoa…” Emily said quietly. She looked down at the strange device, and transferred it to one hand, letting her magic touch it.

The world warped.

Emily gasped, once the swirling behind her eyes stopped, and she found herself standing in front of the fountain, restored to its former glory. “Uncle,” she breathed, “are you seeing this?” She turned, but found the courtyard empty. The Outsider was no longer kneeling by her side, both Daud and Gerome were gone. “Uh,” she said. She stepped into where the Outsider had been, but felt no difference, and she turned in a slow circle, looking around.

The entire manor house was restored, lit up from within, music floating on the air, no dust piles or dry broken bushes. 

She pulled out her comm unit, and nearly dropped it in shock. The automated date spun and changed, finally settling on a night three years in the past. Slowly she put it away, and looked down at the device in her hand. She shook it gently, opening the crystal panels and finding herself staring into Daud’s face. 

He looked angry, and was obviously shouting something. She turned in place to find that the target of his ire was the Outsider, who had his hands up defensively. Turning again revealed Gerome, white with shock and eyes tight with strain as he placed call after call on his comm unit. 

Emily took a few steps away, and reached out with her magic to activate the device. 

The world warped again, but this time she was expecting it. “--  _ should have known _ ,” Daud was bellowing. 

“Hi,” she said, leaning her hip on a broken lamp-post. 

Gerome ended the call, closing his eyes and inhaling slowly through his nose. “Emily Drexel Lela Kaldwin,” he said, in tones of absolute calm.

Emily stepped over to him and kissed his cheek. “Yes, Uncle?” she asked lightly.

“You are grounded until you’re older than the Outsider.”

She laughed, hugging him lightly. “Doesn’t it just rankle that I’m too old to ground?” she asked, sticking her tongue out. “And Daud, stop bellowing at the Outsider, it wasn’t his fault, and you’re going to draw attention.”

“The parasite has always done everything in his power to get ahead, and  _ you _ gave him a body,” Daud growls. “It would be just fitting for you to disappear into the past, leaving him to fuck off into the sunset.”

The Outsider raised his eyebrows. “Unlike you, I don’t run away from my promises.”

Daud bared his teeth. “You used Attano for the last eleven years, hiding behind his influence and now you’re doing the same thing to his daughter, just like you did with me, and countless others.” He took a slow menacing step forward. 

Emily cleared her throat, stepping between them. “That’s enough of that,” she said, glaring at Daud. “I know you two don’t get on, and I’m not asking you two to be friends. I’m asking for some basic gods-damned civility.” Her eyes narrowed. “And I don’t want to hear another disparaging word about my father and the Outsider. You overstep, Daud, and I won’t have it.”

Daud stared down at her and she could see his hackles visibly lower. “Fine,” he bit out. “You don’t use that thing unless one of us is with you.”

“That’s fair,” she said. “If we’re quite done with the pissing contest?”

He grunted and spun away from them to stalk over toward the door. Emily turned to watch him go before offering the Outsider a hand up.

“Thank you,” he said, giving her a smile. “And he wonders why I like your family most.”

“Our overwhelming inability to take care of ourselves?” Emily asked dryly. “Or to tolerate stupidity?” 

“Your capacity for kindness,” he said simply, pressing a barely-there kiss to her temple.

“We’re all each other has left,” Emily murmured. “Kaldwins take care of each other. And so do Attanos.” 

He smiled, just a little. “Believe me when I say that your family is truly unique.”

“It’s true,” Gerome said, resting a pointy, prickly chin on her head. “It’s kinda fuckin’ insufferable.”

Emily snorted, leaning back against Gerome. “I am not  _ insufferable _ ,” she said, elbowing him.

“Nah, it’s your- your… Fuck, Pornbot, what’s the word?”

“Altruism? And Burton, you’ve earned yourself another oceanic bath.”

“Yeah,” Gerome said. “Altruism. Gets you in trouble. Makes us lesser folk wanna be better people an’ shit. Somethin’ like that. It’s a good thing, but fuckin’ insufferable.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “You’d be lost without me,” she said. She pulled away from Gerome, and sensing too much affection would be frowned upon, gave the Outsider a short, one-armed hug before stepping away to gather her backpack off the ground. “Daud,” she called over to where he was smoking angrily, “we’re going inside.”

“Fine,” he grunted, stubbing out his cigar. He took the lead, clearly giving the Outsider his distance. 

Sighing, Emily placed herself between him and the others, following a few feet behind. 

If the courtyard had looked bad, the inside of the manor was far worse. One door shivered in place, like a glitching image on a vid. She could hear soft crying coming from behind it. One part of the foyer was floating gently in the air. There was the sound of sobbing, just a beat too  _ off _ to be entirely human.

“I changed my mind,” Emily said, pausing a few feet inside. “I really don’t want to be here right now.” 

Gerome slowly turned around, taking in the foyer. “Welp. Fucked up enough for you, Daud?”

Daud pushed the part of flooring that was hovering around eye-level away from him. “It’s just a job, Burton,” he said. “Just stay together and don’t do anything stupid.”

As he said that, tentacles erupted from beneath a table, lashing out to grab his boot and barely missing when Daud dodged. Emily had a split-second to see that they were edged with human teeth before they retreated again, clicking together in disappointment.

“Don’t touch anything either,” Daud added, sounding entirely too calm.

The Outsider peered around. “It’s fascinating, isn’t it,” he said. “The way the Void affects reality? This is what it seeks to do to all of the universe, held only in check by the thinnest of barriers.”

“You know,” Gerome said meditatively. “I think I’m so freaked out right now I’m back to calm.”

Emily waved a hand in front of her eyes, but the world didn’t switch over into her Void vision. She did it again, pushing harder with her magic, but nothing happened. “Outsider, I don’t have any magic,” she said, alarmed. “I can feel it, it’s how I used that time piece, but I can’t do anything normal.”

“‘Normal’,” Gerome said, making air quotes.

“It’s likely because of interference from the Void warping reality,” the Outsider informed her.

“Great,” she muttered. She stepped around the table, one hand on her sword, the other on the device. Most of the doors were closed and blocked, but she followed the clear path toward a set of double doors open, but gated off with a chain-link fence. 

Inside the room, which seemed untouched by the warped Void, was a man sitting at a out of tune piano. He played flawlessly, despite the song coming out dissonant and broken, as certain keys weren’t depressing correctly. There was a plate of food left by a hole in the fencing, but it was untouched. 

Emily didn’t remember Aramis Stilton from her childhood visits to Karnaca, but she knew his face from pictures. Though the man playing the piano was filthy and thin, he was undeniably Stilton. Emily narrowed her eyes, looking around the room for a way to get in, and spying a sizeable hole in the ceiling just inside the door.

“We need to go up,” she said, stepping away from the fence. “There’s a hole up there we can use to get down.” 

“Great,” Gerome said with false cheer. “I can’t fuckin’ wait to see what else this place has.”

She smiled at him, or tried to. “Be careful what you wish for, Uncle,” she murmured. She ducked around Daud, walking toward the stairs with light steps, ready to dodge anything that came out at her.

There was no Reaching to get out trouble, she was going to have to rely on her instincts and natural speed, and she’d been neglecting those in favour of magic powers. 

Thankfully, the stairs were relatively normal, it wasn’t until she reached the second floor that the Void warped again. 

A painting rattled against the wall. Emily jumped out of the way as one of the people inside screamed and retched blood onto the floor. Something moved beneath the wallpaper, crawling along the hallway. Just on the edge of hearing, something was scratching from inside the walls. In the shadows in the farthest corner, something was bleeding and trying to crawl away. It vanished when she looked directly at it.

“Uh,” she said. “Just a warning but up here is way worse than down there,” she called down the stairs. 

“Fuckin’ joy,” Gerome muttered, climbing the stairs. As soon as he set foot on the top step, his cigarette began to drip a thick, black liquid. Gerome spat it out, scrubbing at his mouth. “What the fuck?  _ Why?” _

“Maybe don’t smoke anymore while we’re in here,” Emily said, and stepped around the pile of blood and viscera the painting had thrown up. “This way, I think.” The lump in the wallpaper followed them until they crossed the threshold into what had to be the Master Bedroom, a large hole dominating the center of the floor. Cracks spread and sealed themselves across the ceiling like flashes of lightning. From behind the cracks, thousands of black insect legs poked through and wiggled in the air.

Emily pulled up her hood just in case - imagining those legs descending to grab her hair was exactly no amount of fun - and she jumped into the hole. 

It felt like jumping into hot water, but it was too thick and sticky; Emily resolutely didn’t think about it until she landed in a crouch on the floor of Aramis Stilton’s prison. She looked down at her arms, and for half a second, she looked as though she was drenched in blood before the illusion faded. 

She turned to look up, seeing Gerome, Daud and the Outsider waiting on the edge. Emily lifted one shoulder in a shrug, and Daud leapt down after her.

Watching his slow fall was disconcerting, and when he landed a few feet away, he too looked slick with blood. He looked at himself, before turning and gesturing to Gerome to follow them down. It was safe enough, Emily supposed, if not disgusting. 

Gerome hopped through the hole, and Emily could see the realisation dawn on his face, followed immediately by disgust. As soon as he landed, he held his arms away from himself, grimacing.

“That was fuckin’ disgustin’,” he stated.

The Outsider followed immediately afterwards, seemingly unperturbed by the sensation of plunging feet-first into a pool of blood. He glanced at Emily and shrugged.

Whatever song Stilton had been playing faded into nothing, and Emily turned around to find him staring at them. His eyes were too wide, too dark, his expression haunted. He glanced at Emily, dragging his eyes from her to Daud to Gerome and finally fixing on the Outsider.

He burst into motion, throwing himself at the Outsider and grabbing his jacket in a grip that visibly pulled at the fabric. “You,” he babbled, leaning heavily against the Outsider. “You’re  _ here _ , you can fix it, you can  _ fix it!”  _

The Outsider grabbed Stilton’s wrists in an iron grip and forced him away. “Emily, please subdue him before I do.”

Emily pulled Stilton away from the Outsider, placing him firmly back on the piano bench. He grabbed her instead, hanging onto her left arm. “No, no, nonono - you don’t  _ understand _ ,” Stilton said, almost sobbing. “I see you, I know you.” He tried to stand, but Emily held him down, half afraid he would do himself an injury. “ _ We woke it up _ ,” Stilton shrieked, struggling against her hold. “ _ We pulled her out. _ ”

“Stilton!” Emily barked over the sound of his cries. “What did you do?” 

He fixed her with his too-wide eyes, a darkness filling them. “We pulled her out,” he repeated, a mournful broken sound clinging to the edges of his words. “We pulled her out, and I… stayed behind.”

Emily frowned, but Stilton went slack in her grip, eyes fixed and staring at nothing. “When?” she demanded, shaking him.

He rolled his head up to look at her. “You’ve been there,” he said nonsensically. “You know where. You know  _ when _ .” 

Then, slowly, mechanically, he pulled from her slackened grip to turn around and begin playing the same tune on the piano. “Stilton?” she prompted.

“Theo?” Stilton said, shoulders hunching. “Where is Theo?” 

Sensing that his period of lucidity was at an end, Emily took a step back, turning to look at her companions. “Well,” she said. “I suppose this means we have to go to the past to find out what he did.”

“Would the Doodad even work on us?” Gerome mused, eyeing it with suspicion.

“Well,” Emily said, holding it out, “If it doesn’t, then, we make a plan - you can follow along with me in the present, so long as we do exactly as we’re supposed to,” she said. “But, first, this room seems safe enough to experiment.” She reached out and took the Outsider’s hand in her free one, lacing their fingers together, and activated the timepiece. 

The world warped around them, spitting them out into an empty room with an intact piano, no Gerome, no Daud, and no Stilton. 

“Interesting,” the Outsider said. “How do you feel, Emily? Any strain with a passenger?”

Emily gave herself a mental check in, before shaking her head. “No,” she answered. “I barely even noticed, it’s like this isn’t using my internal power, so taking you was easy. I still feel a little nauseated, but the piece is filtering out some of the worst of the Void sickness.” 

“Ah, so it  _ is _ drawing power from the Void itself. Good.” The Outsider leaned over to glance at the timepiece. “Let us go back before Daud has another ‘episode’.”

Emily snorted. “Why do you think I took you with me? I wasn’t leaving you alone in a room together.” 

The Outsider chuckled. “You have my thanks.”

She activated the timepiece, spitting them back out where they’d left. “Test number two,” she announced. “Uncle, come grab my shoulder.”

Gerome stepped forward and gingerly held her shoulder. He screwed his eyes shut and visibly braced himself.

Still holding the Outsider’s hand, Emily activated the timepiece, and spun all three of them out into the past. “Oh good,” she said. “I can do two at a time. Feeling okay, Uncle?”

He tentatively opened one eye. “Oh, hey, this is much better.” He sagged with relief.

“You want me to leave you here while I get Daud?” Emily asked dryly. 

Gerome just gave her a look.

She grinned, and activated the timepiece, dropping back into the present. “Ready, Daud?”

He sighed. “As I’ll ever be,” he said, and stepped up to take her other shoulder. 

Emily barely had to touch the timepiece with her magic, it spat them out into the past without much effort from her at all, leaving all of them in the piano room. The only exit was the double doors, but at least there wasn’t a chain-link fence across it. 

“What's the plan?” Emily asked, looking at the doors.

Daud cleared his throat. “On this night in the past, you aren't yet an enemy of Karnaca. If we avoid the Duke, you should be able to blend into the party without putting on too much of a pretense.”

“Pretense?” Emily inquired.

“The Empress here on Holiday with her Lord Defender, and Spymaster isn't so strange,” Daud said. “Had you ever left Dunwall, you'd have left Attano in charge. That he isn't here won't turn many heads.”

“And do you have an explanation for my presence at her side?” the Outsider asked.

“Dressed like that, you could be mistaken for a Whaler,” Daud said bluntly. “You're simply one of her security team, here for back up.” He made an impatient gesture. “It saves us all from disrupting the party more than we must, and it keeps Emily from being seen taking out guards. If anyone has any other ideas…?”

“No, you're right,” Emily said, sighing. “Uncle, tuck your shirt in and do up your tie. We'll make it work.”

Gerome grumbled but complied. “It ain’t like they haven’t seen me in normal fuckin’ clothes,” he complained.

“Yes, but this time we’re in Stilton’s house, and we need to make a good impression.”

“Fuck,” he grumbled. “I fuckin’ hate doin’ this. Fine. I’ll be the good noble Lord Defender.” He sighed and straightened out of his usual slouch, adjusting his clothing until it looked as presentable as jeans and a button up could look.

“I appreciate your dedication, Uncle,” Emily said dryly. She stepped over to the doors and pushed them open.

Of course, she immediately drew the attention of the crowd of noble women in the foyer. They looked her over obviously, before staring at her companions. “Empress!” One of them said, hurrying forward to dip a curtsey. 

Emily pasted on a smile. Of course the first person she'd meet would be a transplant from Dunwall. “Lady Tremaine,” she said. “How nice to see you again.”

Tremaine looked over Emily’s shoulder. “Oh, but where's your Lord Protector?” She asked eagerly. 

“My father remained in Dunwall,” Emily answered. “He sent my Royal Spymaster, and Lord Defender with me, but in the meantime he holds Dunwall ably for me.”

Tremaine looked at Daud and Gerome in turn before giving the Outsider an obvious once over. “Ah,” she said slyly. “How like your mother you are, to run around with a dark and handsome unknown under your father's nose. Don't you worry about a thing, Empress, I'll see to it no one tells your secrets.” She winked.

Gerome made an odd, choked noise, trying to keep a blank face.

“What?” Daud asked, sounding horrified.

The Outsider bowed gracefully. “You are as generous as you are beautiful, Lady Tremaine.” He straightened and ducked his head a little so that he looked up at Emily. “Would you like me to fetch you some refreshments, my lady?”

Emily blinked slowly. “Yes, thank you,” she answered on autopilot. “You know what I like.” She turned to Lady Tremaine. “Your discretion is appreciated, Lady Tremaine. We're… not quite ready to see the light of day. You understand.”

“Of course, of course!” Tremaine curtseyed again. “I'll see to it there are no wagging tongues, Empress.” She dipped down again and hurried away, likely to be one of the wagging tongues she'd promised to look out for.

“Oh my  _ gods,”  _ Emily muttered. “Really, Outsider?”

“It is a convenient cover,” he said, smirking just a little. “And a highly amusing one.”

“Oh yes, very amusing,” Emily grumbled. “Well now everyone knows we're here and that I have a lover, so there's that. Let's go mingle. Daud, find out where Stilton is, and make some friends.”

Daud nodded. “I'll be in touch.” He wandered off, picking up a glass of wine on his way, heading toward a group of nobles on the stairs. 

“You've glued yourself to my side, you realize,” Emily said, tugging at the Outsider's arm and looping hers through it. 

The Outsider bowed his head to her again. “It would be my honour, my lady,” he said, the only hint of teasing showing in the upward twitch of his lips.

She narrowed her eyes. “You're enjoying this far too much.”

“Immensely.”

She rolled her eyes but tucked herself into his side the way she would if the Outsider had been Wyman. “You owe me a drink,” she said. “We should head that way. Uncle, are you done choking on your tongue?” She asked.

“The weirdest fuckin’ day…” he said, faintly. He followed behind them, watching partygoers with sharp eyes, but kept muttering under his breath.

“This is rather similar circumstances to the Boyle party, isn’t it?” the Outsider asked Gerome, taking a glass of sweet wine from a passing tray and handing it to Emily.

Gerome smiled. “Yeah, I guess it is. At least Em doesn’t have to seduce someone to get them alone.” He paused. “Em, please don’t fu- don’t seduce Stilton to get him alone.”

She wrinkled her nose. “He's not really my type,” she said. “I'd really prefer one of Tremaine’s daughters to Stilton.”

“You’re also not his,” the Outsider murmured, leaning close to Emily. “Stilton prefers men.”

She made a considering face. “I suppose we could send Uncle, in that case.”

Gerome glared at her. “ _ No.”  _ He adjusted his tie, grimacing faintly. “He ain’t- isn’t my type, either. I like ‘em more…” He made a vague gesture in the air.

Emily raised an eyebrow. “More what?” She teased.

“Fit?” the Outsider added. “Good with both sword and gun? Augmented? Noble?”

“You’re both assholes,” Gerome sighed.

Emily grinned. “But we're also not wrong,” she said, pulling the Outsider over to where the food had been laid out. “Alright,” she murmured, keeping her back to the rest of the room. “The guards aren't paying the guests any mind, which tells me they're not here for us. Daud,” she said, tapping their comms. “Anything interesting?”

“Yeah,” Daud answered gruffly. “Jindosh, Ashworth and Hypatia are here with Duke Abele. They're supposedly in Abele’s office which is behind a coded door - not a Hololock, but an old converted safe box code. You have to get the code from Stilton to get in.”

“Where is Stilton?” Emily asked.

“Working on it, I'll let you know.” He signed off with a crackle of static. 

“Well,” Emily said. “Suppose it's time to mingle for real, and hope we come across Stilton.” She picked up a glass of wine and handed it to the Outsider before retrieving one of her own. “Might as well head toward the rest of the people,” she said. “Read-- ah. Let's go.”

The Outsider bowed. “Lead the way, Your Majesty.”

“See, when you say that it just sounds mocking,” she protested, walking them back through the foyer and up the stairs toward the second floor. 

“I would never,” he murmured, following a half-step behind.

“Yes, you would,” she said. “You can't fool me.” 

The second floor opened out into balcony hall ways, populated by random nobles. There were several doors guarded by Grand Elite guards and Emily nodded toward the largest set of double doors. “That's the office. I can see the safe lock box on the wall.”

“I might be able to remove it from the wall,” the Outsider suggested.

Gerome sighed. “I can’t believe I’m the one fuckin’ sayin’ this, but please don’t break the house.”

“We’ll keep that as a last resort,” Emily said. “Let's get out of a direct line of sight. No need to tip off Abele.” She moved out of the hall, choosing a corner with two plush seats and a good view of the stairs down to the foyer. “Uncle, I can see three alarm panels from here? Think you can disable them without being seen?”

Gerome smirked. “Does a Tyvian drink?” He sauntered over to one of the panels and leaned against it. He glanced around for guards and, seeing none, opened the panel. Gerome pulled a miniature pair of wire cutters out of a pocket and, after a moment’s hesitation, cut two wires in quick succession. He closed the panel, relocked it, and moved on to the next. In a matter of minutes, he was done.

“Now if anything goes wrong, at least we have a buffer of time,” Emily said, sipping her wine. “Stilton is definitely not up here though. We can go searching - or we can wait on Daud. Thoughts?”

“We don’t know how much time we’ve got,” Gerome said. “Maybe radio Daud first, see if he’s got somethin’ we can work off of. Some gossip or some shit.”

“Searching means we’d likely be going into restricted areas, but we can play it off as you seeking some time alone with your lover,” the Outsider added.

Emily wrinkled her nose but tapped her comm unit. “Daud?” she asked.

“Busy,” he grunted back, and signed off without further comment. 

Rolling her eyes, she stood up. “Exploring it is.” She scanned the hallway, eyeing an unguarded door. “Might as well start there, let’s go.” She looked over at Gerome. “Be my lookout?” she asked. 

Gerome nodded, still looking mildly disturbed by the Outsider’s plan. He lounged against the wall by the door, looking the picture of the bored guard.

Emily linked her fingers with the Outsider’s and tugged him along the hallway, pulling him inside the door and closing it. “That should look sufficiently damning,” Emily said, letting go of his hand. She turned around to look at the room and sighed. “And I put us in a bedroom. Of course I did.” 

She stepped into the room, avoiding the bed and looking through the desk. “And it’s Stilton’s bedroom,” she said with false cheer. “My father is bound to be looking down at us and laughing,” she added, turning to look at the Outsider and trailing off. “Okay. What… are you doing?” 

The Outsider had clearly run his fingers through his hair until it looked thoroughly ruffled. He’d removed his jacket and loosened his tie, and was currently unbuttoning his shirt.

“I need to look properly ravished,” he said, preoccupied. “Perhaps there’s a journal you can find?”

Emily opened her mouth, decided against commenting, and turned around, turning her attention back to the desk. There wasn’t a journal but there was a half written letter to Theo - that must be Theodanis - and a few other odds and ends. 

She circled the Outsider, who was tugging his shirt tails out of his pants, and picked up the book by the edge of Stilton’s bed. “Found one,” she said, thumbing through it. Stilton had written several things about the party, and more than several things about Theodanis’ passing, and Emily blinked, reading the last entry. “It seems that Meagan Foster, our esteemed captain, was on her way to meet him tonight,” she read off the page. “She apparently visits Stilton often, and he’s looking forward to seeing her.”

“That might have been useful information to impart,” the Outsider said, inspecting himself in the mirror. Apparently mussed to his satisfaction, he came over and peered over her shoulder.

Emily shrugged. “We didn’t give her much of a chance to impart anything. Growing up with Father and the Whalers has made me wary of strangers, and despite her intentions to help, with Daud and the others, it’s easier to use what we know. Still, she knew where we were going.”

The Outsider frowned. “Well, nevertheless, there should be somewhere he frequents. Some indication of where he is.”

She thumbed through the journal scanning it quickly but it didn’t say anything specific enough for her to pinpoint a location. “I guess we could ask someone? Any of the guests, it wouldn’t be too out of the ordinary for the Empress to want to speak with him, right?”

The Outsider shrugged. “I suppose so.”

She put the journal down and went over to the bookshelf, looking for anything else that might stand out. The Outsider followed, looking around with interest.

The door flew open, a second later, and one of the guards, a large brute with shoulders as wide as Emily was tall strode into the room, a scowl on his face. “I knew I heard voices!” he grumbled. 

A half-second before the guard even saw them in the corner, there was a whirl of motion and Emily found herself leaning into the Outsider, “pinning” him to the bookshelf. He'd even managed to get their legs tangled together. With his whole debauched look, their positions were rather incriminating.

Emily stared down at him wide-eyed as the guard blustered to a halt. “Uh. Sorry... About that. Didn’t know you were in here, Empress. You really shouldn’t be in here, it’s Master Stilton’s rooms. But uh… take your time…?” 

The guard dipped a hasty bow and retreated. 

“What the hell was that?” Emily hissed, untangling herself from him and backing several feet away. 

“Oh, hush,” the Outsider tsked. “It made him leave, didn't it? And now we aren't suspicious at all.”

“It was  _ weird _ ,” Emily said. 

The Outsider paused in fixing his appearance. “But surely it's a small price to pay to avoid suspicion?”

Emily rubbed the back of her neck, awkward. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate your quick thinking, it’s that I didn’t have any warning, and it was…” She trailed off. “Intimate,” she decided on, lamely. 

“I couldn't give you any. As a human, your reactions are just too slow.” He hesitated, clearly remembering something. “I apologize for causing you discomfort.” He had the look of a man who was remembering a long ago arguement.

Blinking at him, Emily tilted her head to the side. “A conversation you’d had with my father, I’m guessing?” she wondered. 

He focussed back in on the present with a wistful smile. “Sometimes I forget how upsetting my actions can be. My- Corvo explained that.”

“I’m not upset,” Emily reassured him. “I’m just… You’re my father’s lover. Being in any kind of intimate situation with you is like being in one with family. It was weird, and if he had asked questions, that guard would have known immediately something was up, I had no idea what to say.” 

“A calculated risk,” he admitted. “I suppose I didn't consider your comfort in that situation.”

Emily snorted. “Okay well, the next time we need to pretend to be in a clinch, I’ll be expecting it.” She laughed to herself. “I can only imagine Wyman’s face to telling them this - I gave my father’s AI a body and had to pretend to kiss him, they’re going to get a kick out of it.” 

The Outsider smiled. “At least you have a story out of it. Shall we go inform Gerome that he's a terrible lookout?”

“Yes, let's,” she said, stepping into his space and fixing his hair. “You certainly look the wreck.” 

The Outsider finished setting his clothing to rights and held out his arms as it to say “Well?”.

“You’ll do,” Emily said, hooking her arm around his. “Shall we?” 

“Let's,” the Outsider replied, leading her to the door.

As soon as they opened the door, they ran into Gerome, who leaned against the railing just in front of the door. “... Hi Uncle,” Emily said. 

Gerome raised an eyebrow. “What the fuck have you two been up to that had the guard lookin’ so rattled?”

“I pinned him to the bookshelf and ravished him,” Emily said, straight-faced. Beside her, the Outsider snorted.

“I… what.” 

Emily grinned. “Better question, where were you that the guard came in?” 

Gerome grimaced. “Gettin’ fuckin’ ravished myself. You remember Lady Stillshire? The one who's fuckin’ creepy at me? Yeah, she's here.”

“Oh  _ no _ ,” Emily said. “Never mind, Outsider, go be Uncle’s arm candy instead.” 

The Outsider grinned and started towards Gerome, who immediately raised his hands defensively.

“Don't you fuckin’ dare,” he yelped. “Wait! I got Stilton’s location!”

Emily stared at him. “How? Where is he?”

“He's in the gardens, an’ you don't wanna know.”

“Well,  _ I'm _ curious now,” the Outsider said.

“Then I'm definitely not tellin’ you.”

Emily tipped her head toward the doors outside. “There’s a back entrance to the gardens right there,” she said. “We can probably get back there easily, though once we do, we’ll have to figure out how to get past those guards in front of Stilton’s office.”

“Perhaps Burton will use his charms,” the Outsider said with a sly look.

“I could use mine,” Emily said doubtfully. 

“Please don't,” Gerome said, pained.

“Someone in this building is bound to prefer women,” Emily told him primly. 

“That ain't what I was gettin’ at,” he muttered. “I can't fuckin’ believe I'm gonna say this, but maybe your freaky magic shit can help? I mean, we're in the past an’ all.”

She shook her head. “My magic isn’t working,” Emily said. “The only thing I can do is shift us from now and back to our present. Nothing else has worked, I tried to Reach earlier but it was like I didn’t have any magic at all.” 

“Fine. I'll just use a stun mine. Fuckin’  _ magic _ an’ its weird-ass rules.”

Emily headed over to the door to the garden. “After we get that combination,” she said. “Otherwise we’re going to draw attention to ourselves.” She pushed open the doors, stepping out into the terrace overlooking the back gardens.

It was lush, full of greenery and flowers, and poorly lit. She hurried down the steps, before being stopped by a guard. “No one is supposed to be back here,” the guard said, crossing her arms over her chest. 

Emily smiled, stepping to the side so the light from the house swept over her face. “I’m sure that Mister Stilton would be glad to see me,” she said lightly. 

The guard jerked back and bowed hastily. “Empress! We didn’t know you would be coming!”

Amused, Emily reached back and caught the Outsider’s hand. “I decided to pay a visit to my…” She trailed off, “ _ friend _ ,” she said with just enough emphasis on the word to make the guard look up and see their clasped hands. “I heard about the party and knew I just couldn’t miss the social event of Karnaca. I promise, I won’t take up too much of dear Aramis’ time.” 

The Outsider gave her a besotted smile. 

“... Sure,” the guard said. “Five minutes only, Mister Stilton has a meeting.”

“Of course,” Emily agreed, the very picture of solicitousness. “It won’t take long at all.”

The guard let them pass, and Emily led the way around the corner and up the steps to the gazebo where Stilton was standing. He looked nervous and concerned, sweating despite the temperate night. “... Empress,” he said, taking a step back. “You’re… here.”

“Mr. Stilton, a pleasure to meet you at last,” Emily said, letting go of the Outsider’s hand and tipping her head in a bow. “I was in the country and heard about your party, I hope you don’t mind that I invited myself.” She reached out and took his hand, shaking it warmly. “It would have felt unbearably rude to simply ignore your lovely home.”

Stilton stared at her wide-eyed before he smiled, taking years and concern off his face. “It’s an honour to meet you as well, Empress. I’m humbled that you would join me here. Can I offer you a drink?” he asked.

“That would be perfect, thank you, Mr. Stilton,” she said, and when he turned to pour something from the decanter on the table behind him, she stepped up close and slid a hypo into his neck. “I’m sorry, Mr. Stilton,” she murmured. “I don’t know what happens to you when you leave this gazebo, but whatever it is, sleeping through your meeting seems a far kinder fate.” 

She lowered him slowly into a seat, pulling the small black palm-sized datapad out of his pocket as she does.  

“ _ Em, what the fuck _ ?” Gerome hissed. “We're in the fuckin’ past, who knows what you've changed!”

Handing the datapad off to the Outsider, Emily whispered, “What I’ve changed is condemning a man to living in filth and squalor, trapped inside a single room in a house that the Void is  _ trying to eat _ . Whatever comes from this, it has to be better than that!” 

Gerome grimaced, conceding her point. “Fine, but we should be fuckin’ careful. We could, I dunno, unmake reality or somethin’.”

“I rather think that unmaking reality would be an instantaneous thing, Uncle,” Emily said. “Outsider, anything on that tablet that looks like a code to his office?” 

“451,” the Outsider reported. “The…  _ seance  _ is occurring there.”

Emily turned around to look at him. “The what.”

“It's an ancient method of contacting the dead,” he said, disdainfully.

“I know  _ that _ ,” Emily said. “I just have so many more questions.” She pushed at Gerome until he backed out of her way. “We need to get back inside before someone comes asking questions, then to distract the guards by the doors to the office.”

“I got a solution to the guards,” Gerome said, tossing a stun mine up in the air and catching it.

“This is going to be such fun,” Emily muttered, walking back up the stairs, nodding at the guard on her way. 

As soon as they were back inside, Emily tapped her comm. “Daud, we got the information we needed. Meet us on the second floor by the doors.”

“Copy,” Daud grunted, and they spent four minutes of growing anxiety waiting for him to come up the stairs. 

Emily wanted to ask him where he’d been but they had more important things to do. She nodded at Gerome. “Uncle, do your thing.” 

Gerome pressed a button on the mine, set a timer, and tossed it to land neatly between the two guards. They had a second to look startled before electricity arced up and shocked them into unconsciousness.

“Time to go,” Emily said, darting between the fallen guards and sliding the safe code box into the appropriate configuration. The door clicked ominously and swung open on its own. She stepped inside, letting Daud and Gerome shoulder her out the way so they could go first. 

The world was… wrong, she could feel the pull in her chest that meant too much magic, too much Void in one place. The painting on the wall flickered a few times, as though it was both in the past and present - a vibrant still life, then a slashed, grey filmed piece that hung from the frame. 

The carpet moved under their feet like the rolling waves off the ocean, but when they stepped down, it was firm and solid beneath them. 

“Not again,” Gerome groaned.

The glass panelling that made up a portion of the room flickered both broken and unbroken, and Emily paused, seeing great monstrous beings moving in the frosted glass. The world flickered again, and hands pressed against the glass, hairline fractures appearing under the too-many-fingered palms, before the magic twisted again, leaving the glass empty. 

Emily hurried past it, heading down the stairs before coming to an abrupt stop.

She found Jindosh, Hypatia, Abele and Ashworth standing in a circle around a strange glowing statue. They were shadowy, transparent, half in the world, half out of the world. “Where is Stilton?” the still-unfamiliar voice of the AI who had taken over Hypatia said angrily.

“I don’t know,” Ashworth answered. “It doesn’t matter, we’ll do it without him.”

Each of them took a place, an obvious absence where Stilton had obviously meant to stand. Ashworth sliced her arm, dripping blood into the circle of whale oil she was standing in, and the other three followed her example. 

A second went by, then another, and the center of the circle puckered, opening a wide, yawning cavern that dumped a woman into the world. 

The pucker of Void closed on its own, leaving the woman - Delilah, Emily could see her face now - alone. Ashworth ran toward her, dropping to her knees and wrapping Delilah up in her arms. “Well done, Breanna,” Delilah said. “I had every faith in you.”

Ashworth helped her up, and Delilah turned toward the odd statue made of bone and iron. She reached out, and with a sickening, rending tear, Delilah’s heart pulled itself from her chest, dripping blood and magic. She placed it inside the bone ribs of the statue, and turned, blood streaking down the front of her. “It is done,” she said. “Wait… I know you,” she murmured, turning and facing where Emily stood. She looked directly at them, but Emily realized with a chill that Delilah was looking behind her. 

She turned to follow Delilah’s gaze, finding her staring directly at the Outsider. “I know who you are,” Delilah said with a delighted laugh. “I know  _ when _ you are, and someday I will come for what’s  _ yours _ .” 

The Outsider’s lip curled. “You’ll learn that I can return the  _ favour _ , Delilah Copperspoon,” he hissed. “All you love, all you  _ are _ , will be stripped away. And you’ll be helpless to stop it.”

Delilah just laughed. “Oh,” she said, leaning on Ashworth who looked both concerned and confused. “Isn’t that just like you, little puppet.” Then, before the Outsider could respond again, the scene flickered, and restarted.

The Outsider snarled, slamming a fist through the wall. “I am  _ no one’s  _ puppet.”

Emily caught his hand, brushing away plaster dust from his knuckles. “Don’t fight with ghosts, Step-Bot,” she murmured for his ears only. 

“I  _ hate _ her,” he growled. “I’ve never hated before, but now…”

Gerome stepped up on his other side. “Yeah, well. Perils of bein’ a person, I guess.” He leaned over to lightly bump shoulders with the Outsider, offering support.

The Outsider blinked at him, then leaned, very slightly, against Gerome.

Emily tightened her grip on his hand, checking to make sure he hadn’t broken skin. “She took everything from us,” she said, looking down at his wrist. “It’s okay to hate her, I hate her. Uncle is right, it makes you human, to be angry, to hate. But we’ll stop her; for Corvo.” 

“For Corvo,” the Outsider agreed.

The scene that Emily had resolutely been ignoring spat out Delilah for the second time and she pulled gently on the Outsider’s hand. “Come on,” she said, more than half a question. “Leave her shade to rot here. We know how to defeat her, now.”

Daud cleared his throat from the door. “We should go,” he said loudly. “I hid the guards in here, but someone is going to notice they’re missing.”

Emily nodded, lacing her fingers with the Outsider’s and waiting for him to fall into step with her. 

All three of them, shoulder to shoulder, joined Daud at the door, stepping out into the hall. “Right,” Emily murmured, pulling out the timepiece. “Everyone grab hold.” 

Daud took Emily’s far shoulder, fingers clenching tightly in her jacket. Gerome reached across the Outsider’s shoulders and took her left shoulder, and Emily pushed out her banked magic, letting it touch the timepiece.

The world twisted sideways, spinning them out into the present and Emily gasped so loud she almost choked.

The hall was no longer a ruin; fine drapery covered the windows, and the carpet was like new. The Void that had been leaking through was gone, and instead sunlight arrowed through clean windows. “I found what I changed,” she said to Gerome with wide eyes. 

Gerome opened his mouth, closed it, then sighed. “Why is our lives fuckin’ like this?” he demanded of no one in particular. “Why? Why can’t we just have somethin’ normal happen?”

“Oh come on, Uncle, this is a good change, look at this place! If it’s not a ruin, then Stilton isn’t crazy, and if he’s not crazy, that makes the mines and the silver trade still firmly under his control.” She pointed at Gerome. “This one is a win, admit it.”

“I admit nothin’,” he muttered. “Who knows what else happened! Maybe Stilton is still batshit, but now he’s fuckin’ evil too? I’m reservin’ judgement until I actually see him.”

Emily grinned at him, heading down the stairs. There were servants around but they paid them no mind as Emily stepped out into the foyer. The entire manor house was changed, bright and sunlit, and the heavy Void that had dragged her down was nowhere to be found. 

Just before stepping out into the courtyard, Emily tugged up her scarf, covering the lower half of her face. “We should go to the Crone’s Hand,” Daud said. “Meet up with Thomas and the others.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Emily agreed, stepping out into the foyer. It looked the same, except there was no Jindosh lock set into the wall, and Emily led the way out into the Batista District.

It, like the manor, was much improved - the statue of Stilton was no longer graffitied or defaced, the piles of dust were gone. The screens and holograms that had been dead and empty were lighting up every corner of the district.

Daud took the lead, stepping through the gates to Batista proper, walking them through an alley until they arrived at the Howler’s Pub.

There was quite the crowd gathered inside, and Thomas met her at the door. “Hey boss,” he said cheerfully to Daud. “Paolo has some information for you. Little sister, Munchkin and Pip cracked the code in the Twins’ podcast. By this time tomorrow, we’ll be able to speak to them safely.” He glanced over at a woman standing in the corner. “If the esteemed Captain Foster will let them tinker with her satellite antennae.”

Emily followed his gaze and for the second time in ten minutes stared in shock. Foster stood where Thomas had indicated, both her arms crossed over her chest, and a scowl that showcased both her eyes. “Holy shit,” she breathed. “Will you count this as a win,  _ now _ ?” she demanded of Gerome.  

“Yeah, okay,” he said, smiling unwillingly. “We’ve managed to pull off a fuckin’ miracle.”

“What are you talking about?” Thomas wondered, eyeing them suspiciously.

“Nothing,” Emily answered, grinning. “We’re just really happy to see everyone.” She paused. “Well, I am. Daud is probably less happy.”

“That’s just his face,” Gerome assured her, just as loudly.

Daud grumbled something under his breath, stepping into the room. “We know why Delilah didn’t die when Attano stabbed her,” he said, gaining the attention of every person in the room. “When I killed her the first time, she died, that wasn’t a trick. Ashworth, Jindosh, Abele, they resurrected her, she pulled out her own heart and encased it in bone, blood and magic. Find her heart, and we can kill her.” 

Thomas nodded, the smile dropping off his face. “We’ll do some searching, see where the Duke might have hidden it.” 

“Good,” Daud said. “Thomas, take Calla, and some of the Howlers to spy on the Duke, do some recon and meet here in a few days. Pip, Munchkin, get information flowing from Dunwall that doesn’t come in the form of obnoxious podcasts - Foster, you and I will head back to the ship, set up your satellite dish to reach Dunwall.” He glanced over at Emily. “You three do whatever it is you have to,” he said.  

“Sure,” Emily agreed. “We’ll head back to the ship eventually.” She turned to look over her shoulder at Gerome and the Outsider. “There’s a black market shop around here right? Feel like escorting me?”

Gerome shrugged. “Sure. Let’s see what else’s changed.”

“Sounds good.” She squeezed the Outsider’s hand. “Shall we?” 

“After you,” he said, dipping into an only mildly sardonic bow.

Emily rolled her eyes. “Come on, Step-Bot,” she said. “We’ll see if they have any new upgrades for you. We can check in once everything has settled.” She tugged his hand lightly and led them out into the sunset.

*

Staring up at the dark ceiling, Emily sighed and checked the clock for the hundredth time, finding that only a few minutes had passed since the last. She was alone in the room, Gerome had kissed her forehead then wandered away, claiming restlessness, but Emily hadn’t slept more than a few minutes since he’d closed the cabin door behind him.

The clock blinked a far too early number of the morning at her, but Emily climbed out of bed, giving it up for lost. 

Heading for the deck, Emily looked in on the main cabin first, finding Sokolov and Hypatia sleeping soundly, and the telltale glow of Cedric or Pip at a terminal in the corner.  Deciding that disturbing the resting doctors would be counterproductive, however accidental, Emily Reached up the stairs to avoid the squeaky steps in the middle.

The whole ship was quiet, and Emily was unsurprised to find the Outsider sitting on a pile of canvas tarps in the corner of the deck. She padded over to him, making enough noise so as to not sneak up on him. “Mind if I join?” she asked, voice quiet. 

The Outsider turned his head just enough to glance at her, his irises glowing silver in the night. He shifted over on the tarps, wordlessly offering space.

“Did you know the constellations I used to know are gone now?” He asked, expressionless, toneless. “The stars have all shifted.”

Emily settled down on the deck next to him, looking up at the sky. “What was your favorite?” she asked, tracing the familiar constellations with her eyes. 

“It's rather cliché, but… the rough translation is 'the Great Whale’. The beast whose spray made the stars, and carried the world through the boundless ocean of the cosmos.”

Emily leaned her head on his shoulder. “I like that story,” she said. “It sounds poetic - the boundless ocean of the cosmos. I wish I could have been around to see it. Father used to teach me the constellations, drove Mother crazy, he’d bring me up on the roof, and point them out to me, telling me their stories.” 

The Outsider hummed, continuing to stare upwards.

“Like that one,” Emily said, pointing up at a spray of stars just above the horizon line. “Father liked that one. I don’t remember the exact name anymore, but the story was that a man had fallen in love with the wrong girl, and the gods punished them. They turned him into a bear, that’s him right there, and placed him in the sky. During the cold months, you can see her constellation, the hawk, where the gods put her, forever parted from her lover.” She dragged her eyes away from the clear sky to look over at the Outsider. “If you don’t want to tell me what’s wrong, that’s okay - I can keep talking about constellations, or anything else, really. But… are you alright?” 

The Outsider was silent. Then, in a quiet, detached voice he said, “They used to keep me in a cage, barely large enough for a hound. I carried the scars from the collar around my neck for my entire life, until they cut my throat and drained me dry.”

Emily pulled back to look at him in shock. “They  _ what _ ?” she asked, incredulous. 

“This was back when slavery was common, you see. But for my entire life, I was never treated as a person. First as a slave, then a god, then a hated and hunted AI. None of those things are really…  _ people _ . Until I found your father.

“He's the first person in millennia to ask me if I'm alright.” The Outsider tilted his head to look at her. “And you're the second.”

There was a pause as Emily thought back on all their interactions since losing her father, and she said, very slowly, “I owe you the biggest apology, Outsider.” 

“Why?”

“Because I called you an ‘it’ for the first several weeks of this whole ordeal,” she said. “Gerome didn’t, and I know father didn’t, but I never understood  _ why _ until Jindosh’s place. So I’m sorry, because after my father, being stuck in my head, when I was calling you a thing, that must have been so difficult, and it was shitty of me.”

“I know you were. I could hear it.” He looked back up at the sky. “I expected no less. I don't know why Gerome was so quick to accept my personhood, but to be quite honest, I thought that Corvo was just unnaturally empathetic.”

Emily winced. “Somehow knowing that you expected that makes the whole thing worse,” she murmured. “You’ve put up with so much from us, and still, here you are.” She leaned her head back on his shoulder, looking up at the stars again. “I know our tasks are far from over, but, thank you. For coming with me, and being here.” 

A hand rose up and the Outsider patted her head. “There, there,” he said, and his lips curved up in a smile.

Snorting, Emily flicked his hand. “You’re ridiculous,” she said, fondly. 

“Blame your father for my sense of humour. I obtained it from him.”

Emily laughed, covering her mouth to stifle it. “My father has the  _ worst _ sense of humour,” she said. She bit her lip a second later, amusement fading. “Well,” she murmured. “Had.”

“I'm not certain Corvo is dead,” the Outsider said, hesitantly.

Taking a second to let that sink in, Emily slowly pulled away from the Outsider to sit up and look at him. “I want to believe that,” she said honestly. “I want to believe that so badly. Why do you think that?” 

“Magic,” he explained. “Delilah used a spell on him to keep a dangerous form immobilized. And spells are generally reversible.”

Emily swallowed hard, fighting back a swell of hope. “So, if we kill Delilah… we might get him back?” 

“Yes. Break the hold she has on the spell, and it shall crumble.”

Shifting forward, Emily hugged the Outsider tightly, pressing her forehead into his collarbone. “I hope you’re right,” she whispered. 

The Outsider stiffly patted her back. “I was a god of the Void, my dear. I know these things.”

Emily pulled back, taking his hands. “It’s just a hug, Step-Bot,” she said, grinning. “It’s common when people are friends. You can hug me back, I won’t break.” 

“You  _ are _ rather squishy,” he said, lightly. “And I  _ am _ strong enough to crush steel.” He rested a hand lightly on her back.

“I’m certain that when I was a girl, Father could have crushed all my ribs because of his augments,” Emily said. “You’ll learn your own strength eventually.”  She leaned back in and hugged him gently. 

“Hugging is weird,” he said flatly. “Humans are weird.”

“You’re just insulting yourself, you know,” Emily said with deliberate lightness. 

A heavy chin thumped down onto her head. “Yes, yes.”

Emily snorted. “After Coldridge, after everything, father got more affectionate. If you’re right, if he’s alive… You’ll have to get used to the hugging.” 

“Now that I have a physical body, I assure you that there will be quite a lot of…  _ hugging _ .”

With a noise of alarmed disgust, Emily pushed away from him, recoiling. “ _ I did not need that mental image _ ,” she groans, covering her eyes with both hands. “Nope. I will never unimagine that. Thank you so much.” 

For the first time, Emily heard the Outsider laugh. It was a breathless, synthetic chuckle. Brief, but genuine.

“There are just some things a daughter doesn’t need to know about her father,” Emily said, pulling a face. “Ever.”

“Did you know,” he said, grinning at her. “I can perfectly recreate the sounds he makes?”

Emily lunged forward to cover his mouth. “Do  _ not _ ,” she said. “I’m glad he found happiness with you, I am - but I do  _ not _ need to picture it, hear it, or think about it for more than three seconds at a time.” 

Emily could feel him chuckling into her palm.  Finally, he conceded with a muffled “fine, fine”.

She sat back on her heels, scowling at him. “And you say hugging is weird,” she said.

“There is no chemical reaction in my body caused by touch,” he informed her primly. “Therefore I don't get any benefit from it. But I suppose it's necessary for your delicate human body.”

He shot her a sly, amused look, then flopped over onto her, driving the air out of her lungs.

“Yeah,” she wheezed. “Real delicate.” She poked at his side, with increasing desperation. “Heavy,” Emily grunted. “Can’t breathe.”

The Outsider sat back up. “Does that fulfil your need for affectionate contact?” He teased.

“Cheater,” Emily grumbled without rancor. She sat up, rubbing her ribs. “How much do you  _ weigh _ ? Ow.”

“Approximately three hundred pounds,” he said. “Mostly it's the durasteel frame.”

Emily stared at him goggle-eyed. “Three hundred- good gods. I am increasingly more alarmed by what Jindosh was going to use this body for.”

“Well…” The Outsider got that look on his face again. “The weight is mostly to threaten. This body was also going to be used as a combat model, much like your father was to the Empress. He also wanted it to be able to hold him down and fuck him until he screamed.”

Emily opened her mouth, then closed it. “... I asked for that one,” she said. “I wish I hadn’t, but I asked for it.”

“You really did,” he agreed amicably.

“We should get some sleep,” Emily said, resolutely not thinking about the sexual habits of the old Kirin Jindosh. “Or I should. Good night, Step-bot. I’ll see you in the morning.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek, just like she would Gerome, before heading back to her cabin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed Dadsider. He's trying.
> 
> As a special gift to you lovely readers, there'll be an additional chapter featuring more Gerome in a few days. A separate coda. Like the appendices of LotR, but sexier and with additional Suffering.
> 
> So nothing like the appendices of LotR, really.


	11. Chapter 11

She could not get over the fact that Meagan Foster had both arms and both eyes. The captain had sought her out the morning after they’d left Stilton’s manor, and Emily kept finding her eyes catching on the whole arm on Meagan’s right side. “I owe you an apology, Empress,” Foster said leaning over the railing of the Dreadful Wale. “I knew Aramis, and I was supposed to meet him that night, but he never sent word. I’ve been keeping many secrets from you.”

“I know,” Emily said lightly. “We’ve all been keeping secrets, it comes with the territory. I won’t say it’s fine, because it isn’t, but I understand why you’re reluctant to trust me.”

Surprisingly, that made Foster laugh, the sound broken and rusty. “You really don’t,” she said. “But thank you, for attempting to understand anyway.” Emily watched her, not responding, simply waiting her out. “I knew Delilah,” Foster said. “Ran with her, for a time. What you have with your men, I left something very much like this behind when I chose to follow Delilah.”

“Oh?” Emily prompted.

“It rankles to admit,” Foster said, “but my avoidance of you has been fueled by jealousy. And I apologize for that as well.” She looked away from the horizon line to meet Emily’s gaze. “I can’t tell you everything yet, and I hope that you’ll extend some measure of trust in that I will, when this comes closer to being over.”

Emily met her eyes. “You realize you’re asking a lot, considering how little trust you put in me prior to this?”

“I’m aware,” Foster said. “But we have coexisted so far together, I believe we can make it a few more weeks.” She turned to glance at the entrance to the cabins, making an expansive gesture. “With Alexandria out of commission until she can find away to negate her Augments, or at least find a pain management system that doesn’t turn her into an idiot, she will remain here. Anton is better than he was, but with that AI driving Jindosh’s body helping him, he’ll be good as new.” She looked over at Emily. “It means that your quarters will remain cramped.”

Emily shrugged. “The Outsider doesn’t sleep anyway,” she said. “It’s fine.”

Foster nodded. “Once your Spymaster returns, once we eliminate Duke Abele…. I’ll tell you everything.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Captain,” Emily said quietly, unprotesting when Foster pushed away from the railing and walked away. Emily glanced off to the side. “You remember I can see you, right, Step-Bot?” she said to the glowing yellow figure crouched in the shadows of the packing crates.

“I’ll discover a way to negate that ability,” the Outsider said, rising from his crouch. He was back in his skin-tight, matte black body suit. Apparently he had decided against wandering about the ship completely nude.   
She grinned. “You can try. It’s not body heat, because I can also see random objects, so I have no idea.” She tipped her head toward the shadows he was still standing in. “Any particular reason for your reconnaissance? Or were you just eavesdropping for fun and profit?”

“I was just practicing,” he said innocently. “You never know when it could come in handy.”

“Uh huh,” she said skeptically. “Hear anything interesting?” 

“I do wonder why Captain Foster wants us to wait until the very end to tell us everything. Her secret must be terrible indeed.”

Emily eyed him. “Something you know that I don't?”

“Plenty,” he said with a smug smirk.

Emily rolled her eyes. “I'm leaving you on the ship when we go after the Duke,” she said flatly. 

The Outsider reached out, quick as a thought, and grabbed Emily's wrist. “Oh dear,” he deadpanned. “My systems seem to be locked. It seems you're forced to take me with you.”

She snorted. “If your systems are locking maybe we should give you over to Kirin to look over.”

The Outsider raised an eyebrow. “Don’t make me lean on you, Emily Kaldwin.”

“Oh  _ Void _ no,  _ anything but that _ ,” she said, grinning at him.

The Outsider glared at her, suddenly going limp and flopping his formidable weight on her side. Emily staggered, hitting the railing of the ship. She wrapped her arms around him to balance before reaching for her magic and turning into wisps of smoke, slipping out of his grip and yanking his ankle out from under him, reforming crouched over him. 

The Outsider grinned beneath her. “Very good.”

Then he sat up, tumbling her backwards off of him.

“Do try to remember, though, that I  _ am  _ much stronger than any human could ever be.” He frowned, mulling something over. “You could ask…  _ Daud _ -” his nose crinkled as he said the name “- for help integrating your new powers into a cohesive fighting style. He’s spent years training people with vastly different augments.”

Emily hesitated. “When he comes back, I’ll ask.” She sat cross-legged next to him, thinking it over. “He generally left my training to everyone else though.”

The Outsider shrugged. “Well, the Twins are back in Dunwall, and Gerome isn’t exactly prepared to deal with magic.”

That made her laugh. “Uncle’s reaction to magic, while hilarious, is definitely not conducive to fighting with it, no.” She leaned back on her hands. “You’re right, it’s a good idea. I’ll ask him when he comes back tomorrow.”

He nodded. “Now then, what do you need to deal with Luca Abele. Have you thought of anything?”

Emily sighed. “Well,” she said slowly. “There’s a rumor that he has a body double - I don’t know if that’s a real person who just looks very much like him, or if it’s one of Kirin’s Androids. Abele actively helped turn Dad into stone, so I’d like to see him gone, but I’d rather not kill him unless I don’t have any other choice.” 

“He is also the most likely to be in possession of Delilah’s heart.” He paused. “Literally.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Probably. And ew. In the… seance they did, she pulled her heart out and put it in that statue right? So if we find the statue, we’ll find her heart.” She gestured over toward the cabins. “I have Cedric doing some digging on his recent finances, to see if we can trace anything specific. Daud is out there with Thom and a few of our Howler friends, seeing what they can dig up on the street. But to be honest, if Abele has her heart, what do I even do with it?”

“Bring it to her,” he explained. “She’s partitioned off a part of herself. It’ll want to rejoin the rest, as is natural. Bring the heart near her, and her soul, essence, spirit, whatever you believe in will go to her body, rendering her mortal once more.”

Emily bit her lip. “I want to kill her,” she admitted quietly. “Is that… bad?”

The Outsider sighed. “Emily, I am the last person to ask about moral judgments. I’m far too removed from mankind’s morality to give you the answers you need.” 

“You’re also the only impartial observer to all this,” she pointed out. “Of course Uncle would try to make the rational decision, but, after everything we’ve been through, and his own grief…” She shrugged, trailing off. “I’ve tried to find a better way, mostly. I just… don’t think she deserves a better way.”

The Outsider snorted, a staticky noise. “Emily, I’m hardly impartial.” His eerie eyes flicked up and his face hardened. “I want to skin her alive, tear her apart and take her sight for what she’s done, what she’s taken. I want to make her suffer for millennia.”

“... Oh,” she said. “So maybe killing her is not the worst thing to want. Sorry, Step-Bot.”

The Outsider chuckled. “I suppose it is easy to forget I was once a great god,” he said, waving away her apology.

“It  _ does _ rather sound like a bad science fiction vid,” she said, smirking. “God turned AI turned man.” She heaved a sigh, turning serious again. “Well. When we go take out Abele, you and Uncle will come with me. Maybe Cedric too. He can blend in anywhere, and so could you, if you put some clothes on.”

The Outsider hopped up onto a crate and lounged. “Odd, it seems I wasn’t programmed with shame,” he said, smirking at her through hooded eyes. “How does the saying go? ‘If you’ve got it, flaunt it’?”

“Okay, no,” Emily said, laughing. “Do not flaunt anything anywhere near Duke Luca Abele. For all our sakes.”

“Duke Luca Abele, defeated by envy.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “Men,” she muttered. “Fine, you can compare dick sizes with Luca Abele while I sneak up on him from behind. Good plan.”

“If it distracts him…” the Outsider said, amused.

“Unless you can delete that sort of information from your brain, you may well be stuck with the mental image of Luca Abele’s penis inside your head forever,” Emily said. “There are just some things you can’t unsee.”

The Outsider snorted, glancing over at her. “I don’t delete them, I compress and file away. How else do you think I’ve managed to not think about the reason this body was made?”

Wrinkling her nose, Emily shuddered. “I would like that power, please,” she complained. “In all seriousness though, if Abele has a body double that’s a human, perhaps he’d be a more amenable Duke.” 

“A possibility,” he mused. “Perhaps you should bring Cedric. He’s excellent at persuading people to do as he likes.”

“Good idea,” Emily agreed. “You, Uncle - because if I tried to leave him behind he’d kill me - and Cedric.” She leaned back against the railing. “Am I going to have to… touch… her beating, disconnected heart?” 

“Most likely.”

“Ugh,” she muttered. “Gross. I don’t want anything to do with her. I just want to kill her and get Father back.” She waved a hand at him. “I know, I know, it might not work. But. I can hope.”

“Hope is better than despair,” the Outsider said. “It does have a 96% chance of working.”

“That’s true,” Emily agreed. “I wish Daud would hurry up, but I did give him two days. Sitting here like this is just making me anxious though.”

“Come lie in the sun with me, then,” the Outsider invited, lying back along the crate and turning his bodysuit into skintight shorts.

She tugged off her boots and jacket, laying next to him on the crate. “You do realize that my half-Gristolian skin still burns in direct sunlight, right, Step-Bot?” she asked, amused.

The Outsider opened an eye to glance at her. “I doubt you’ll be able to sit still that long,” he drawled. His skin shimmered oddly in the light. “Now hush and let me get a partial charge from converting heat and sunlight.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, and curled up on the crate, letting the warmth soothe her into a half doze. 

Some time passed before Pip climbed up on the crate, shaking her leg. “Em,” he whispered. “Em, here!”

“Whuzzat?” she mumbled, taking the thing he handed to her. Realizing it was a comm unit, she popped out her usual model and stuck the new one in. “This is Em,” she answered. 

“Hey little sister,” Rulfio’s voice said warmly in her ear. 

Emily sat up so fast she gave herself whiplash, accidentally disturbing the Outsider. “Rulfio!” she said. “You’re okay!”

“A few witches aren’t going to hurt us,” he said, snorting loudly. “Rin is here too, but he lost the game of Roshambo, so I got to call you. You’re alright?”

Emily nudged Pip. “Go get Uncle,” she told him, and he scampered off with a nod. “I’m okay, Rulf. It’s - it’s been a long few weeks. We’re waiting on Daud right now, and we’re safe as we can be.”

“Everyone is there with you?” Rulfio asked with obvious relief.

“I have Pip, Cedric, Cal, Uncle, Thom and Daud,” she answered. “Everyone is okay.”

There was a short pause, then, Rulfio said slowly, “Um. Where’s your father, then?”

Emily’s heart clenched. “He didn’t make it, Rulf,” she said quietly. “Delilah… did something, and I don’t… he didn’t make it.” 

Gerome came pounding up the stairs, grinning. The smile dropped off of his face when he caught sight of Emily’s expression.

“Are they okay?” he mouthed.

She nodded, trying to summon up a smile from somewhere. “ _ Void _ , littlest sister, I’m sorry,” Rulfio said, Rin’s echo right behind him. “You want us to look for his body?”

“No,” she said. “I know…” She winced. “He’s in the Throne room. Don’t go there, okay? We’ll deal with him when everything is over. Don’t get yourself killed trying to bury my father. There isn’t a body to bury anyway. Just. Stay safe.” She cleared her throat. “I also have the Outsider - before he left the Tower net, he said you found Alexi. I’m so sorry, Rulf, her last words were tell you she loved you both.”

Rulfio coughed. “Oh. Uh. Yeah, about that.”

There was a jumbled mess of static, before a familiar voice came on the line. “What’s this I’m hearing about you telling people I’m dead?” Alexi said. 

Emily sucked in so much air she almost choked. “ _ Alexi _ ?”  

“I know it looked bad, Em, but seriously. I’m right here. I’m okay.” 

Emily burst into tears. 

Gerome jerked into motion. “What the fuck?” he demanded. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Aw, come on Empress, don’t cry,” Alexi said.

“I thought you were dead,” Emily sobbed, rubbing at her face. “Ramsey stabbed you right in front of me, you were  _ bleeding out _ , and I had to leave you there!” 

Alexi laughed softly. “It was only a light stabbing. I’m okay. I promise, I’m okay. I’m with my boys, and they’ve been taking very good care of me. But I won’t be fighting any wars for a while. Stop crying, now, you’ll do Burton an injury with it.”

Emily choked out a laugh of her own and looked up to meet Gerome’s worried eyes. “Alexi is alive,” she said.

Gerome whooped. “Atta girl!”

“You’re okay though? I heard the Lord Protector didn’t make it. How are you?”

“I’m okay,” Emily agreed, sniffling back the last of her tears. “I’ve had a lot of help, and we’re so close to taking down the last of the coup members. Once we get through that… we’re coming back to Dunwall. And, I have a surprise for you when I get back.”

“Oh my  _ gods _ ,” Alexi said. “You’re pregnant?!”

There was a blast of sound from Alexi’s end of the connection as both the Twins shrieked something and Emily groaned. “ _ No _ ,” she shouted. “I am not pregnant, why does everyone keep thinking I’m pregnant?!”

Gerome wheezed with laughter, slowly tipping over to lean heavily on a crate. 

“It’s not for lack of trying on Wyman’s part,” Alexi said diplomatically.

“Wyman is perfectly decorous,” Emily said. “They would never do that. And shut up, Uncle!” 

Gerome flapped a hand, cackling and trying to wipe the tears from his eyes.

“Still not pregnant,” Emily repeated firmly. “And you’ll have to wait until I get back, because you can’t keep a secret from the Twins to save your life.”

Alexi grumbled. “Fine. Where are you right now?”

“I’m on the Dreadful Wale, Captain Foster’s ship, the one you told me to go to. We’re waiting for Daud to come back with the last of his recon information, and then we’re going to the Ducal Pointe, where Abele built his monstrosity of a palace.” 

“Can you tell us anything about Delilah?” Alexi asked, obviously repeating one of the Twins.

“Well,” Emily said dryly. “She’s immortal.”

There was a beat of silence before Alexi said, utterly deadpan, “what.”

“I really wish I was exaggerating,” Emily said. “It’ll take too long to explain, but suffice it to say, Delilah has magic, and she made herself immortal. The only way to defeat her is by undoing what she did to become so in the first place.”

Alexi growled. “How the hell do we defeat someone with goddamn magic?” she asked. “Her witches are bad enough around here.”

“Well,” Emily said lightly. “As it turns out, Delilah isn’t the only one with magic.”

“That’s lucky,” Alexi grumbled. “Who? How’d you find them?”

Emily grinned, tipping a wink at Gerome, who sighed. “It’s me.”

“... Of course it is,” Alexi said. “Boys, our girl has magic, and we should all be afraid.”

“You three want to talk to Gerome or anyone else?” she asked. “Daud and Thom aren’t here but everyone else is.”

Alexi laughed before making a low noise of pain. “I shouldn’t even be sitting up to talk to you,” she admitted. “But I had to talk to you myself. Keep using this comm piece, okay? We’ll be able to hook into it whenever.” 

“Okay,” Emily said. “Give me the channel name.”

There was a round of static before Rinaldo said, “It’s CQV-WH413R.”

“... Are you serious.” 

“Yup. We’ll contact you if we learn anything more about Corvo, or about Delilah.”

Emily nodded. “Okay. Miss you. Be safe.”

“Miss you too, littlest sister,” Rinaldo said softly. “Be careful, and good luck.”

The comm went dead in her ear, and Emily looked up grinning. “Alexi is  _ alive _ ,” she repeated.

Gerome swooped down and pulled her into a hug. “Delilah better watch her ass, then,” he growled. “Bitty Badass is gonna fuck her up.”

“She better save some for me,” Emily said, grinning into his shoulder. “But they’re okay. They gave me a channel for everyone to hook into, and we can talk to them now.”

“Good,” Gerome grunted. “Kids need someone to make sure they ain’t doin’ dumb shit.”

She pulled back, scrubbing her eyes. “They really do,” she agreed. “Before all this though, the Outsider and I were talking plans - once Daud gets back with his information, and we head toward the palace, I’m taking you, Ced, and the Outsider with me. Cedric can blend in with the civilians and ingratiate himself around. And there’s a rumor that Luca has a body double but I don’t know how true that is.” 

“An’ Luca probably has a shit ton of HoloLocks. You got any plans for th’ body double?”

Emily shrugged. “Depending on his willingness to speak with us - perhaps he’d be a more amenable Duke that the one we currently have.” 

Gerome mulled that over, scratching at his jaw. “You thinkin’ of usin’ him as some sorta figurehead? Or, I dunno, fuckin’ pawn?”

“I suppose that depends on him. If he’s a competent, then he can do as he likes so long as ‘as he likes’ doesn’t follow the same script as Luca. If he isn’t, then, we’ll figure out something.” She glanced over at where the Outsider was still powered down, sunning himself. “Uncle…” she began slowly. “There’s something I should probably tell you.”

Gerome peered at her, worried. “Yeah?”

“I don’t want to get your hopes up, but if this body double is too much like Luca, then, it’s at least an option. But… The Outsider doesn’t think father’s really dead,” she said all in a rush. “Being turned to stone, it’s a spell. And if we kill Delilah, then the spell should end. He says there’s a 96% chance.”

Gerome stilled, staring at her blankly. “What?” He said hoarsely.

“If we get rid of Delilah… we might get father back,” Emily repeated. “And if I can get him back, and - this body double is terrible, I can send you and Corvo and the Outsider here to Karnaca to be Duke in Abele’s stead.”

Gerome blanched. “Please don't fuckin’ make me a Duke,” he pleaded. “Send the P- the Outsider. He'd like orderin’ people around.”

She rolled her eyes. “No, I wouldn't inflict you with Dukedom,” she said. “But if father is alive, I'd make him Duke. And send you and the Outsider with him.” Emily shrugged. “Thom would become my Royal Protector, and we'd continue more or less as we are.”

Gerome hesitated. Just as he opened his mouth to say something, the Outsider spoke up.

“Perhaps a local, one who knows the current plight of the common man would be a better choice,” he said, not opening his eyes. “Someone who they trust. Corvo has been in Dunwall for a very long time.”

“Normally I'd agree with you,” Emily said. “But my list of Karnacan people who  _ I _ can trust is in short supply.” She leaned against the crate, crossing her arms over her chest. “Paolo could work, except he's spent the majority of his adult life as a criminal.”

The Outsider opened one eye to give Emily an impassive stare. “You have his children loyal to you. I doubt there's anything you could ask that he would say no to.” The eye closed. “Running a country-wide criminal empire involves much the same skills as a politician's repertoire.”

Emily thought about that. “Yes,” she agreed slowly. “It’s not his loyalty to me that I would question. It’s the loyalty of the people to him.” 

“The noble choffers ain't gonna like it, but who gives a shit about them,” Gerome said. “But the common people? The fuckin’ miners an’ workers? His people take care of 'em. He's one of the loudest ones tryin’ to improve workin’ conditions.”

“The public regard him with as a sort of folk hero. A mix of fear and admiration,” the Outsider added.

“You just don’t want to be a Duke,” she accused them both. “Alright - if Luca’s twin or body double is just as power hungry and useless as he is, then I’ll approach Paolo. Happy?” 

“Perhaps approach him anyway,” the Outsider mused. “The new Duke would need someone to keep an eye on him, of course.”

“That’s a good idea,” Emily said. “Though, first we have to get through the palace tomorrow.” She hopped up on the crate and nudged the Outsider’s leg. “Do you happen to have a download of the Palace grounds? In the files from the Tower, I had the old palace floorplan but Abele tore it down.”

“I have the original plans, but Luca Abele was notorious for last minute modifications. Ergo, their usefulness is limited.”

Making a noise of disgust, Emily scowled. “Fantastic. Of course.” She tapped her fingers against her leg for a second. “Alright. I’m going to go call Paolo, check in with Cedric, then find dinner. You two play nice, and I’ll see you in the morning.” She hopped off the crate to kiss Gerome on the cheek as she wandered away. 

As soon as her back was turned, Emily heard Gerome make a horrified noise of protest, as the Outsider apparently decided to shed the rest of his clothing.

It was going to be a long night.

*

“And of course,” Emily said, staring sourly at the door, “it's a Void-damned Jindosh HoloLock.” She stepped away from the apartment door. “All yours, Ced.” 

“Don't mind if I do,” Cedric said, beaming. He cracked his fingers and got to work.

When five minutes had passed, and Cedric had made no headway, Emily moved up the hall to watch for guards or witches. Another five minutes passed, and Cedric’s swearing got steadily worse. Emily turned back to tell him to calm down when she saw the vent in the corner of hall. 

She tapped the Outsider on the arm and pointed to it when he looked over at her. Once he was paying attention, she slipped into shadow form, sliding along the floor and through the grates of the vent, weaving her way through and reforming on the other side of the wall, safely inside the apartment. 

As soon as the world snapped back into focus, Emily hit the unlock button on the door and tugged it open. “Hi,” she said to Cedric, looking down at him with a grin. Cedric pouted up at her.

“I had it,” he complained.

Behind him, Gerome was tapping a foot and looking at her with crossed arms and a raised eyebrow.

“So did I,” Emily countered. “And I told the Outsider what I was doing, I didn’t just run off.”

Gerome turned and gave the Outsider an outraged look. The android just adjusted his sunglasses and smirked.

“Deal with it,” he said, radiating smugness.

Rolling her eyes Emily pushed the door open the rest of the way. “If it makes you feel better, brother, there’s another safe in here.”

“Eee,” Cedric squealed, looking at the sheer number of locks waiting to be cracked. He bounced to his feet and practically skipped into the room.

Gerome dragged a hand down his face. “Fuck,” he groaned. “Now we'll never fuckin’ leave.”

Emily sat down in the arm chair, spinning it to hunt through the desk. “The party at the Palace doesn’t start for another twenty minutes. He’ll be fashionably late, it’s fine.”

Cedric, meanwhile, was plugging in a database to the largest safe. “You give me the best gifts, little sister,” he called. The Outsider peered over his shoulder with interest.

“You’re welcome,” she said, fondly amused. “So,” she said. “Foster found out that the Duke definitely has a body double, Daud found out he smokes. Cedric is going to infiltrate the party itself and see what he can find - Outsider where would you prefer to be? With us, on your own or with Cedric?”

“I suppose I could go alone and scout out the palace,” the Outsider mused. He tilted a sly look at Gerome. “Of course, that does mean someone would have to take care of my clothes.”

“I'll stick 'em in a flower pot,” Gerome drawled. “One with fuckin’ nettles.”

“You can give them to me, Step-Bot,” Emily said, handing him her bag. “Just make sure to stick them on the bottom so I can get to the Addermire solutions just in case.”

The Outsider immediately started stripping. Gerome made a strangled noise and covered his eyes.

“You could've at least fuckin’ waited until we  _ got there _ , you shit!”

“Where's the fun in that?” The Outsider replied, his black bodysuit melting into being.

Emily eyed Gerome. “You know Uncle, for someone who made such a fuss when  _ I  _ told you to keep your clothes on, going on and on about it just being  _ legs _ , and I’ve seen sets before, you’re awfully whiny about the Outsider making the same argument.” 

“I didn't have my fuckin’ dick out,” he hissed, aggrieved. “I got  _ some _ class.”

She grinned at him. “You have one of your own, Uncle, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” she parrots. “And it’s nothing the rest of us haven’t seen either.” 

Gerome went blotchy. “Em, please. For th’ love of little fish,  _ never _ talk to me about dicks ever again. I miss when you was young an’ innocent. Before you got all full of sass.”

“I learned sass from you,” Emily said. “So really it’s your own fault.”

“An’ I have never regretted anythin’ more in my entire life,” he said darkly.

She shrugged smoothly. “Fine, I’ll just go to Thomas the next time I want to talk about them.  _ He _ doesn’t limit my sass.”

“Thom likes dick,” Gerome said. “Go ahead.”

That made Emily pause. She turned back in the chair to face him, holding the Outsider’s clothes in her lap. “ _ Uncle _ ,” she said, loading her tone with all the incredulity and innuendo she could. “ _ Really _ ?”

Gerome blinked at her. “What? What'd I say?”

She stared at him for a long second. “Nope. I’m going to let you come to that conclusion on your own. You’ll figure it out.”

Comprehension dawned. “Oh! Nah,” he drawled. “I came to the conclusion that I really just like  _ him _ . Y’think we should reclassify Corvo as a woman?”

There was a snort from behind the safe. “Oh my  _ god _ , Gerome.”

“ _ No _ , we are not classifying my father as a woman, Void, Uncle.” Emily pulled a face. “Would  _ you _ liked to be classified as a woman?” 

Gerome made a show of thinking it over. “Well…”

“Now, Emily,” the Outsider said, amused. “Don't shame Gerome for her gender identity.”

Gerome guffawed.

“I would  _ never _ , Step-Bot,” Emily said, rolling her eyes. “But seriously, we’re not reclassifying Corvo as a woman.” 

Gerome shrugged. “I got like, five lap dances from different dudes an’ nothin’, so I think it's just him.”

“... That was more than I needed to know,” Emily said. 

“That was more than  _ anyone _ needed to know,” Cedric muttered, opening the safe. “Oh, hey. Em, one of your bone thingies is in here.”

Meanwhile the Outsider was informing Gerome that his sample size was too small, and he needed at least a few dozen men to have a proper scientific experiment.

Emily moved across the room to lean over Cedric’s shoulder. “Which kind of bone thingy?” she wondered, and reached for the magic inside the chest. It dissolved in her hand as soon as her fingers lifted it up and magic raced through her, making her back up away from Cedric just in case. 

The magic slipped out of her in white shadows and mist, looping around Gerome’s head and stretching off toward the Outsider. There it stayed, swirling around their faces. She narrowed her eyes at them, watching the strand of magic and mist expand and contract. “You two don’t feel anything do you?” she asked. 

Gerome peered at her suspiciously. “No?”

She moved over to the Outsider, peering up at the magic swirling around his head. “You either?” she asked. 

The Outsider raised an inquiring eyebrow. “Nothing.”

“Hm,” she said. “That’s weird. Let me try something. Don’t toss me.” She wrapped her arms around the Outsider’s neck, standing on her toes to give him a hug. 

Gerome jumped about a foot in the air and rubbed at his shoulders. “ _ What the fuck?”  _ He yelped. He turned frantically to the Outsider, who looked him in the eye and shook his head.

“I believe it is Emily's new power,” he said. Gerome swallowed hard and nodded shakily.

Seeing that they were still connected, Emily broke away from the Outsider and went to hug Gerome, giving him the same hug she’d given the Outsider. “Can you feel that, Step-Bot?” she asked. 

“It's a most peculiar sensation,” he replied, completely calm.

“I bet,” Emily said slowly, not letting go of Gerome, “that if I linked up two enemies and knocked one out, they’d both go down.”

“Kill one,” the Outsider mused, “and the other's heart stops.”

Gerome gave him a look. “Why d’you always gotta be morbid?”

Emily pulled back, waving away the magic. “This has  _ applications _ ,” she said. 

“Just remember to use proper protection,”  the Outsider said idly. “And make certain both parties are fully informed.”

“Fuck’s sakes,” Gerome muttered, burying his face in his hands.

“Yes, Step-Bot,” Emily said dutifully. “Ced, you done looting?”

“I was letting you think of terrible ideas and traumatize the old man,” he said with a wink.

She grinned. “I hardly need help with that,” she said. “You’re going to be late, brother. We should go.”

Cedric peered into the polished door of the safe, checking his hair.

“How do I look?” He asked, turning to Emily.

She leaned around him to flatten some of his hair down in the back. “Handsome as ever, brother dearest. Keep in radio contact, okay?”

“Of course,” he said. He bowed to Emily and strolled away, whistling a cheerful tune.

Emily glanced at the Outsider. “You wanna follow? You can just be invisible, after all.”

“True,” he said, and rippled into invisibility. “I'll go my own way, though.”

“Good luck, Step-Bot,” she said quietly. 

“Looks like it's just you an’ me,” Gerome drawled. “Let's go fuck shit up.”

*

Emily crouched over the roof, looking down at the balcony where Duke Abele’s bedroom was supposed to be. “I’m going to assume that Luca is in there,” she said, following the yellow figure of someone pacing back and forth. “But that door looks like it has an old fashioned lock.” 

Gerome Dashed down and skidded to a halt in front of the door. He dropped into a crouch and peered into the lock. He pulled out an oiled leather wallet and selected the picks he needed.

“Keep an eye out,” he whispered. “I ain't gonna be able to check on my own.”

She nodded, waving a hand in front of her eyes to renew her Void Gaze. She kept her head on a swivel looking around for guards. A flickering movement on the other end of the balcony caught her attention and Emily Reached over to it, taking the guard by surprise, punching him in the face before spinning him around and pulling him into a Tyvian chokehold. 

Once he was unconscious, she let him fall, Reaching back over to Gerome. “Only one guard up here,” she murmured. “Two people inside, but one is…” She watched him walk down a set of stairs, then head through the room and disappear out of her range. “Leaving. And gone.”

With a twist of his wrist, the lock clicked open.

“Ready?” He murmured.

Emily pulled out a solution and downed it, tossing the vial into the bushes. “As I’ll ever be,” She answered. 

They pushed open the door, and Emily crept up the stairs, keeping her body low. She watched the Duke - or the double? - move around. She focused her ears, listening to him mumble to himself. “... my father left a mess,” he muttered to himself. “Up to me to clean it up.”

Emily slid into shadow form, swarming up the stairs and pouncing on Duke Luca Abele, dragging him into a half human, half mist choke hold, letting him fall to the ground after. She turned around, becoming fully human to look at Gerome, who looked unnerved.

“I will never fuckin’ get used to that,” he mumbled. “He the real one?”

“Yes,” Emily answered. “Doubt that the body double would refer to Theodanis as his father, no matter how close they were.” 

“Huh, point. So what're you gonna do with 'im?”

Emily looked down at him, wrinkling her nose. “Well, let’s tie him to something just in case, but he’ll be out for a while.” She tapped her comm. “Outsider, Ced, I found the real Luca Abele. Check in?”

Silence.

Alarmed, Emily hit the comm again. “Cedric, check in,” she demanded. “Outsider,  _ check in _ .” 

“Sorry, Em,” Cedric said. “I had to get to a private place. I haven't seen Abele yet, so I guess the double is still somewhere else.”

Finally, the Outsider spoke up. “... I'm outside the vault that holds Delilah's heart.”

She inhaled slowly. “Are you okay?”

There was quiet for a heartbeat. Just as Emily opened her mouth to prompt him, he answered her.

“I very much wish to rip this door open and crush her heart with my bare hands,” he said tonelessly.

She bit her lip. “Yeah,” she murmured. “I understand. Do you need me to come get you?” 

“No. I will await your arrival.”

“Okay,” she said. “Cedric, where are you and what floors have you checked? We’re on the fourth floor right now.”

“First and half the second,” he reported. “I'm in a closet right now on the second floor.”

“Kid, you haven't been in the fuckin’ closet since you hit puberty,” Gerome drawled.

“Oh, trust me, old man,” Cedric purred. “I've become intimately familiar with closets and other hidden alcoves.”

“ _ Ugh _ .”

“We’ll tackle the third floor,” Emily said, heading off another argument. “When you’re done on the second floor, go find the Outsider and rendezvous with him.” She waved Gerome back down the stairs, setting up a stun mine on the floor at the top of the stairs, rigging it to go off from proximity. “Once we find the body double, we’ll let you know what our choices are. Thoughts, concerns, issues?”

“Yeah,” Gerome said, and Emily knew her uncle well enough to hear the quiet concern in his voice. “Outsider, remember to keep your channel open.”

“Acknowledged.”

Gerome frowned and muted his com. “He ain't done that in a while,” he murmured to Emily. “Gone all beep-boop robot. Must be really fucked up over Delilah.”

She muted her own. “Yeah,” she said. “I understand though, but. We should move quickly.” 

Gerome nodded.

She left another stun mine at the foot of the stairs as well, heading toward the elevator and stairwell. She peered over the stairs, holding up one finger to Gerome. There was one guard below them and she lightly perched on the edge of the balcony. “Meet you down there,” she said, flashing him a grin, and leapt down on top of the guard. 

They landed with a thump, and Emily smacked the guard’s head into the floor, knocking him out. She picked him up and stashed him behind a shelf, dusting off her hands. 

Gerome landed lightly behind her, his leg augments absorbing the impact. He shot her an unimpressed look.

“You need to land lighter,” he instructed. “You're too fuckin’ loud.”

“If I hadn’t landed on the guard, I wouldn’t have made any noise,” she said. 

“Yeah. 'S why you land behind him,  _ then _ you knock 'im out.”

Emily pointed at the hanging vines and light fixture. “I couldn’t land behind him, I would have landed on that,” she said. Movement from the door behind Gerome made her freeze, and she gestured sharply for silence. 

The doors didn’t open and the figure moved away, so Emily slipped around Gerome to peer through the keyhole. Walking away from her field of view was a man dressed very much like the person she’d just knocked out the floor above them. Her eyes registered no other movement, and she pulled away. “Looks like the body double was kept close,” she said. “He’s in there, looks like an office.”

Gerome crouched smoothly in front of the lock. He snorted at what he saw.

“Gimme one minute,” he said disdainfully. “Fuckin’ easy shit.”

True to his word, the lock opened in under a minute.

Emily pushed open the door, not bothering to keep to the shadows. For once, she wasn’t there to immediately end someone. This was going to be a negotiation. “I figured out your game, you know,” she said clearly, watching the man stop mid pace, his back still to her. “I believe you’re Luca Abele’s body double.”

Slowly, the man turned around. The resemblance was striking, and even more amazing, the skin was real, not the strange shimmery synthetiskin that Foster sported. “So you have,” the double said dryly. “You clearly know who I am, but you have me at a disadvantage, my lady.”

Hesitating only slightly, Emily pulled down her scarf. “Emily Kaldwin,” she introduced with a shallow bow. “Formerly Empress of the Isles.”

The body double paused again. “... I see. Then I can only imagine why you are here, and why you might be speaking to me.”

Emily stepped farther into the room, making sure to keep directly in front of where Gerome was crouched. “Yes, I can’t imagine this would be a surprise, to you or to anyone,” she said. “However this night ends, the real Luca Abele won’t be in charge beyond it. Your role, though, has yet to be determined.”

To his credit, the double got it immediately, an intrigued look skating over his face. “You want me to take his place.”

“It’s come to my attention that I was too lenient with the ducal family once Theodanis passed,” Emily said. “I’ve come to pay Luca back for his kindness. If I remove him without parting the skin of his throat, are  your feet the same size as his? Will you take over and do it right?”

“We are identical in every way,” the double assured her. “But I’ve been chafing under his rule for long enough. And I must admit, I’ve had the same thoughts as you - I’ve been playing him for years, long enough to be him for months at a time. What is your price, Empress?”

Emily regarded him. “Simply that when I call on you, and I will, you will be behind the Empire wholly. And, once this is over and Delilah is gone, you will reach out to the people and begin unravelling Luca’s damage - I suggest you start with Paolo Escobar, he’ll be able to guide you.”

The double bowed. “There is one problem,” he said. “Luca has on his person an amulet with his DNA code inside it. Anyone testing our veracity will see that he is the correct Luca Abele.”

She shrugged one shoulder. “I’ve already knocked him out,” she said. “We’ll meet you in his - your - rooms, and you can do as you like with the DNA coded amulet.”

There was another short pause, and then the double bowed. “As you wish, your Highness.”

Together they moved through the office and up the stairs, where Emily darted forward to collect her two stun mines. She dragged Luca downstairs, dropping him on his circular bed. “Here,” she grunted. “All yours.”

The double smiled, plugging the amulet off the insensate Luca’s chest. “You should hide,” he said. “Don’t worry, I’m very convincing.”

Emily didn’t see Gerome, but assumed he was close by, and she climbed the stairs to duck under the desk on the loft balcony. Within moments, the double had called up the guard, demanding he take away the ‘double’ who had quite clearly gone mad, pretending to be him. “I’ll never find another likeness like his,” the double lamented. “Send him to the Sanitorium; his mind augments have clearly addled him. Such a shame.” 

When Emily came back down the stairs, the double tossed her a cypher code. “Here, highness. It’s the rolling code for Luca’s safe. I’m assuming you know what’s in there.” He smiled. “A pleasure doing business with you.” 

“Good bye, Luca Abele,” she said solemnly. “I’ll be checking in on you very soon.”

“I look forward to hearing from you,” he said, and bowed deeply. 

Emily slipped out of the doors to the balcony, tapping her comm to unmute it. “Uncle, check in - where’d you go once I went into that office?”

“There's some nice wide rafters up here,” he drawled. “One sec.” A window opened just below the roof, and Gerome slithered through. 

“Jus’ like when I was casin’ joints for valuables,” he said, grinning from ear to ear.

Emily rolled her eyes. “Outsider, Cedric, what’s your location, can you ping the comms? We’ve dealt with the duke, now we just need the heart.”

“We're just off the gardens,” Cedric reported.

Stepping onto the edge of the balcony, Emily glanced over the assorted grounds, catching sight of bright plumes of flowers down and to her right. “I got you,” she said. “Be there soon, hang tight.” She turned to Gerome. “I can Reach down there, can you Dash or do we need to go around?”

Gerome eyeballed the distance. “I can make it.”

Without further ado, Emily Reached across the gap and landed on the lower roof, darting across it before Reaching across the next gap to the top of the stairs down into the garden. She could hear the rapid patter of Gerome's feet as he Dashed behind her.

The gardens opened up into a stone cathedral-like structure with holographic and LED pictures instead of windows, lighting up the area with garish, clashing colours. Though it took long moments  for her eyes to focus, Emily could see two figures standing inside. 

Walking quickly, she moved into the doorway, stepping through the hologram of a portcullis. She found Cedric sitting on the edge of a windowsill, while the Outsider paced back and forth in front of the large vault doors.

Emily immediately tossed Cedric the rolling cypher datadisk. “Here. The codes to get in,” she said. That done, and trusting Cedric to figure out how to open the door, Emily moved up to the Outsider, letting him see her approach. “Come on,” she urged gently, holding up her bag. “Give Cedric some space, and you can get redressed.” 

The Outsider turned around inhumanly fast, then seemed to catch himself. “Yes,” he murmured. He reached into her bag and pulled out his clothing, redressing in fluid, mechanical movements.

Gerome wandered over and deliberately jostled the Outsider.

“C’mon Pornbot,” he drawled, eyes tight with badly-hidden worry. “You're forgettin’ how to human.”

The Outsider twitched and glared at him. “Clearly, you need another reminder about that abominable nickname.”

Gerome grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. “Atta 'Bot,” he said. “There's the uptight Outsider I know.”

Emily slipped forward and leaned into his side, taking back her bag and using the Outsider as a brace as she rooted through it for another Addermire solution to sip at. “He makes at least as many terrible jokes as you, Uncle,” she defended. “I don’t think uptight is quite the right adjective.”

“Prissy?” Gerome suggested.

She frowned at him. “Classy, maybe,” she said. “Don’t be unkind because you’re jealous, Uncle.”

Gerome spluttered. “I am  _ not _ jealous of- the fuck would I be jealous about?!”

“My class, charm, sense of style, superior strength, speed, agility, looks… the list is endless, Burton.”

Gerome glared at the both of them. “Yeah, well,” he growled. “At least  _ I  _ can smoke an’ get drunk, so there.”

Emily wrinkled her nose. “I’m not sure if I should be impressed with that come back or find it tragic,” she informed him. “I mean, really, Uncle - strength, speed, agility, he’s handsome… but you can drink?” She grinned at him. 

Gerome sighed. “I'm leavin’ you both in Karnaca,” he declared. “I'm gonna go an’ get Cal, an’ be fuckin’ pirates or somethin’.”

“Wyman would come get us,” Emily said. “Of course, then I’d have to protect the Outsider’s honour from Wyman and their company.” 

The Outsider blinked slowly at Emily. “I am but a frail, mechanical flower,” he deadpanned. Gerome snorted.

She leaned further into his space, letting him take all her weight. “Of course,” she said primly. “It’s my job to protect you until dad is back.” 

The Outsider barely moved. “My maiden heart flutters at your words,” he drawled. “If a couch were nearby, I would swoon into it.”

She tilted her head back to scowl at him. “Are you quoting the  _ Maiden Princess of Pandyssia _ ?” Emily demanded. “That was a terrible book -  _ why _ are quoting it?”

The Outsider tilted his head to smirk down at her. “You say it’s terrible, but you’ve clearly read it enough to recognise the exact line.”

“Ooh, he’s got you there,” Gerome crowed.

“Wyman read it to me,” Emily said sourly. “In the voices. Every time I got them to stop, they’d start it up again. It was terrible - and that was their favorite line.” 

“Wyman clearly has good taste,” the Outsider said. “I approve. After I do a thorough background check and threaten to remove their spine if they break your heart.”

“Aw,” Emily said, turning around to kiss his cheek the way she’d done with Gerome. “You’re very sweet, but if you rip out Wyman’s spine, I will be very put out.”

“Popular media indicated that threats of physical violence was appropriate for the situation,” he said, allowing the affection stoically. “I tailored it to my tastes, of course.”

Emily snorted. “I’m pretty sure Wyman has passed all the Whalers’ rigamarole of tests, including the standard seduction package from Thom, so I don’t believe your threat of violence is actually necessary. I’m very happy with them, please don’t kill them.”

“Those were sibling threats,” the Outsider explained. “Wyman needs to withstand all of the parental threats as well.”

“That’s going to be… interesting to try to explain,” Emily said. “Here Wyman, remember the Outsider, the snarky AI that used to run the Tower? Well now he’s human, and pretty much my third? Fourth? Whatever. Parent.” 

Gerome made a considering noise. “Lessee, there’s Corvo, me, Step-Bot… Who’d be the fourth? Daud? Nah.”

“Ugh,” she said. “Daud is most certainly not my parental figure.” She crossed her arms over her chest, looking over toward Cedric. “My mother,” she said quietly, after a beat. “You, Corvo, Step-Bot, and my mother.”

Gerome paused. “...Right, yeah,” he mumbled. “Of course.”

There was a loud, metallic clunk from the vault door. Slowly, it rolled along an unseen track and into the wall.

“There we go,” Cedric said, dusting off his hands. “Piece of cake.”

Emily pulled away from the Outsider, walking into the vault, ruffling Cedric’s hair on the way. The vault was a massive circular room with two floors, and she leaned over the balcony of the second floor to case the first. 

An Android patrolled the first floor, making a slow circuit around the painted statue that Delilah had shoved her heart into. Once it went past her, Emily leapt smoothly over the ledge and landed lightly behind it, placing her last stun mine on its shoulder and Reaching a few feet away as it went down in a shower of sparks. She moved around in front of the statue, and with her Void Gaze, she could see the heart where it hung suspended in bony ribs. 

It beat slowly, once or twice per minute as she waited for the others to follow her down. As soon as she could see them on the stairs, Emily balled her fist and punched through the plaster sternum of the statue, revealing the heart.

It was dry, thankfully, and she reached out and pulled it from the cage of bone and papier-mâché.

The heart was warm and leathery in her hand, and as she held it, it began to beat faster. As she held it, a voice - Delilah’s voice - filled her head with insidious, sibilant whispering. “ _ Poor little girl, _ ” it said. “ _ Once an empress. I plotted to steal your face, your throne. You’ll never know how close I came, back then.”  _

“What the fuck,” she said out loud, holding the heart away from herself.

“ _ Your father stands in  _ my _ throne room, a statue of cold stone. You’ll never know if you are truly his daughter _ .” 

Emily didn’t know what sound she made to that, only that it was torn from her throat as her fingers went numb, and the heart fell to the ground with a dull thud. 

“ _ You are alone now, _ ” Delilah still whispered. “ _ I am your only family. _ ”

“That’s enough.” A pale hand slid into view as the Outsider picked up the heart. His mouth tightened as Delilah apparently started whispering to him, but he held on. His grip on the heart slowly tightened as he watched it dispassionately. He stopped just shy of causing actual damage, and he relaxed.

“I will hold on to this for you, my dear,” he told Emily. “There’s no need for you to be the one carrying this dead old thing.”

She shuddered, crossing her arms over her chest and suddenly feeling very cold. “Thank you,” she managed to say. “Can we get out of here?” 

“‘Course,” Gerome said. “C’mon, Sparrow, let’s get back to the ship.”

Emily looked up at the balcony and Reached, immediately heading for the private dock, and sending Foster the coordinates. As soon as the skiff came around the bend, Emily was on it, as far from the others as she could get.

Cedric frowned at her. “You okay, little sister?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah,” she answered, looking away. “I’m fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Troo: Who wants to know what Delilah was saying to the Outsider?  
> Here you go:  
>  _You're going to watch him wither away before your eyes, and you will be helpless to save him._  
>  You're going to watch them all die. Everyone you care about will age, while you remain eternal.  
> Do you really think he can still love you when he realizes you're not real?  
> You failed him, and he'll never forgive you for it.  
> Once a slave, always a slave.


	12. Chapter 12

She stared at the wall, watching the clock without really seeing it. She was exhausted, but no matter how much magic she used, how much training she did, her mind wouldn't stop replaying Delilah’s words. 

Finally, after another hour went by and sleep was no closer to her, Emily left the room, Reaching over Gerome’s prone form and out into the hall.

The ship was silent, and Emily made her way to the highest point of the ship, stopping short when she saw the Outsider lounging there.  “Was it true?” she asked harshly. 

“What?” he asked.

“She said I wasn't Corvo's daughter.”

The Outsider raised his eyebrows. “I suppose you know I have access, or had, rather, to the DNA profiles of both you and Corvo?”

She nodded once. “I suspected.”

“You’re a genetic match,” he said. “You’re his true daughter by blood, but before that, you were his daughter by choice.” He blinked slowly at her. “Which bond do you think was more real?”

“I don't care about - It's not that. If I'm not his daughter by blood - well I have plenty of family that isn't blood now.” She shook her head, rubbing her arms. “It’s that Delilah reached into my head and  _ pulled that out. _ ”

The Outsider shifted out of his lounge, sitting up to look at her directly. “Magic is an unpleasant thing,” he murmured. “And the Void knows all your darkest thoughts. Delilah is cruel. No secret is sacred to her.” He smiled a little, a twisted, bitter thing. “She speaks to me, too.”

Slowly, Emily sat down next to him. “If she was lying about me, she's lying about you,” she decided. “Can we put her in a… a lead-lined box or something? Shut her up for a while? I can't ask you to carry her for the two week trip back home.”

The Outsider shrugged. “My mind moves far too rapidly,” he explained. “Everything she says I have thought about again and again. It’s nothing new. It isn’t pleasant, but when it gets past what I can handle, I just threaten her with agonising death.”

Emily tightened her grip on her own arms. “I'm sorry,” she murmured. 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, my dear,” he said. “You forget that I am… was an ancient god. Her words have no power over me. They are all things I have acknowledged and come to terms with ages past.”

“I didn't forget,” Emily said. “I know what you were. Or are. I can still be sorry. Whatever you are, however fast your mind works, I can only imagine the thousands of years of memories and mistakes she's making you think on.” She pillowed her chin on her knees. “So I am. Sorry. And, thanks, for holding her, even though it's causing you pain.”

The Outsider studied her. “You Kaldwins are certainly unique,” he murmured. He inclined his head in a regal nod. “You’re welcome.”

She smiled a little. “It’s the Attano part,” she said. “You do know…” she added cautiously, “She's lying to you, right? You won't start believing her?”  _ Like I did _ , went unsaid but was largely heard all the same.

The Outsider shrugged. “I am aware it's all poison. Delilah was never good at subtle.”

“You can be aware it’s poison as it’s killing you,” she said dryly. 

The Outsider chuckled. “How very wise.”

Emily snorted, glancing at him. “Not something I’m usually called,” she admitted. “But I’ve done nothing  _ but _ think over these last few days. Uncle is probably driving himself to distraction over it.” She heaved a sigh, leaning back against the rails, staring up at the sky. “I just want this to be over.”

“Burton  _ has _ approached me to help him interrogate you,” the Outsider said. “I believe his idea was for me to sit on you as he forced you to talk. I informed him that I might just end up crushing you to death.”

“A fitting end,” she said, amused. “Please don't sit on me again.”

“As you wish,” he drawled with a mocking bow.

She rolled her eyes. “What do you think it'll be like?” she wondered. “Dunwall, I mean. Rin and Rulf haven't painted a very nice picture of it.”

“I doubt she cares much for the minutiae of running an empire,” the Outsider said. “Her terrorist group was founded on extremist, pro-augment views, though that was likely just a useful tool for recruitment, not something she actually believes. I expect to see a dictatorship.”

“You’re probably right,” Emily said. “Then again, I wasn’t doing very well myself, was I?” 

“No,” he said flatly. “You just didn't care enough. I suspected you were just clinging to the immaturity caused by your childhood trauma.”

Emily choked out a strangled laugh. “Tell me how you really feel, Step-Bot,” she said. 

“But during this time of adversity, you've grown by leaps and bounds.” His eyes softened, just a little. “I'm… proud of you.”

She leaned against his arm. “Thanks,” Emily murmured. “I’ll try to do better. I… didn’t really get it, before. And now, living like this… I’ll have my work cut out for me. But I’m going to change how the Empire is run.”

The Outsider shifted so that she could tuck herself under his arm. “That is all anyone can ask of you.”

Emily curled into his side, snorting softly. “That’s all anyone asked for before,” she pointed out. “But it’s still all I can do now, so it’ll have to be enough.”

“The difference is that now you have me on your side as well.”

That made her laugh, and she covered her mouth with one hand when the sound echoed. “So you’re saying I didn’t have you before? Thanks, Outsider.” 

“I admit to only truly caring about Corvo and his fate.” He wrapped an arm around her head in what was possibly an awkward attempt at a hug. “You and the others, however, have grown on me. I suppose there must be faulty programming in this body somewhere.”

Emily wrapped her arm around his back and leaned into him, despite the awkward angle. “No doubt,” she agreed, smirking. “Must be the faulty programming. Absolutely.”

“I've been infected with the human virus of emotion,” he drawled in a monotone. “Curse you, meatbags.”

“ _ Meatbags _ ?” Emily wrinkled her nose. “Gross.” She settled into him, leaning her head against his collarbone. “I’m telling father that you blame faulty programming for everything now.”

The Outsider snorted. “He knows. He also knows that he's certainly the source of it.”

“I’m glad he had you,” she said honestly, before chewing her lip. “I know that this is none of my business, and you’re perfectly welcome to tell me to sod off, but. You were in my head when Uncle said those things about dad. What… are you going to do about Gerome?”

“That depends on Gerome,” the Outsider said frankly. “if he's content to continue to hide it, then that's his business. In the unlikely event of him speaking up, I will see how Corvo reacts. We have shared before, though a Fugue is different that a true triad.”

Deciding to let most of that slide without comment, Emily said slowly, “I agree, it’s not likely he’ll say anything, but… I’m worried about him. About all three of you. I’m not saying you should have to share, not everyone can do that. But, I’m worried about Uncle, now that his feelings are out there.” 

“Burton is an adult,” he said. “He can deal with rejection if it happens, and if it doesn't, then he will react however he reacts.”

“True,” Emily murmured. “I still worry.” She sighed. “I just… really hope you’re right. I miss him, so much.” 

“I am always right.”

She chuckled softly. “Sure you are, Step-Bot.”

*

The two week trip to Dunwall took both too long and not enough time. With Kirin and Hypatia left in Karnaca, the added space for Thom and Daud was absolutely necessary - Emily spent most of her time training with Daud to learn to integrate her magic into her fighting style. 

The first time she crawled into bed, covered in bruises and a particularly impressive black eye, Gerome nearly suffered a heart attack. 

Eventually, Emily improved, but she was sore and exhausted by the time they grew close to Dunwall’s waters. 

“I need to speak to you,” Foster said, interrupting Daud just as he caught Emily up in a chokehold. “To both of you.”

Emily tapped out of the hold, stepping away from him and picking up a bottle of water, drinking heavily. “I take it the time for secrets is over?” she said dryly. 

Foster nodded. “Yes.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “You already know I once ran with Delilah, but there was more to it. Before Delilah, I was… part of something. We… were a family, and I abandoned them for her. This… group, this family, we were gang members, assassins. There was… a job. It went poorly from the start, and our leader, the boss, he changed.” 

Emily inhaled sharply, turning to look at Daud. 

“No,” Daud said, shaking his head. “ _ No _ .”

But Foster ignored him, continuing doggedly, “We did the job, but we never took another, and I betrayed them, lead Delilah to them, and I left. I blamed the job, but it wasn’t…”

“Say it,” Daud barked.

“The job was Jessamine,” Foster spit out. “My real name is Billie Lurk.” She tugged off her visor, and the holographic imaging over her skin faded away, leaving her as she was. 

Daud spun away, a low snarl rumbling through him. “Get the others,” he spat, obviously to Emily.

Slowly, her eyes on Billie, Emily pushed the comm unit in her ear. “Thom, Cal, Ced, Pip, Uncle, you should come up on deck,” she said. 

“On our way,” Calla said.

“Daud,” Billie said, a note of pleading her tone, but Daud’s shoulders hitched up, and she subsided. “Empress,” she said instead, “I left them because I had no regrets, and belittled Daud for having them but… I know now what it is to feel regret.”

Emily crossed her arms over her chest. “You could have told us at any point, Lurk,” she said. “We’ve been cohabitating for months now, at  _ any  _ point, you could have come clean. Why now?”

“Now, we’re back to kill another Empress. And I am  _ tired _ of keeping secrets,” Billie said quietly. 

Daud barked a harsh laugh. “I’m not the one you have to explain yourself to,” he said, bitterly. 

“Old man,” Billie said.

“You don’t get to call me that anymore,” he said, and stormed across the deck, heading toward the others where they came out of the bowels of the ship. 

“So, the traitor came back, hm?” Calla crossed her arms and glared at Billie. “If this were my ship, I’d keelhaul you right now.”

Gerome slipped past her, ignoring Billie as he took his place beside Emily. She could see a muscle tic in his jaw.

She reached out and took his hand, squeezing once. Pip came up on her other side, his arms crossed tight over his chest. “Why?” he asked. “We thought you were dead, or worse. You just. Why?”

“I had to make it right,” Billie said. “Or try to. Can’t take back what I’ve done, but I can help you take Delilah down, for what she did to all of us.”

“Don’t put the death of your fellow Whalers, of  _ kids _ , on that fuckin’ bitch,” Gerome snarled harshly. “ _ You _ led them to us.  _ You _ betrayed us.”

“I loved her, Burton,” Billie snapped. “It was you, or it was her, and she  _ promised me _ no one would get hurt. I believed her, believed her  _ lies _ for years because I  _ loved her _ .” She looked down. “You of all people know what it’s like to do anything for love.”

Gerome recoiled, going pale. “Fuck you,” he spat, his hand clenching tight on Emily’s.

Cedric prowled over. “You aren’t so naive to believe the  _ Overseers _ would have spared us, Lurk.” He stopped next to Gerome and bumped his shoulder in silent support. “You fucked up, and seven people were killed or taken by them to be tortured.”

Billie went ashen. “What?” she whispered. “No,  _ no _ , Delilah said - she promised she would go with only two of her witches. I didn’t  _ know _ , Munchkin, she swore to me no one got hurt, that she  _ let you go _ , it - I didn’t know.” 

Cedric’s lip curled. “You lost the right to call me that when the Overseers executed Bran in front of me.”

Seeing the entire situation spiraling out of control, Emily stepped in front of Gerome and Cedric. “I forgive you,” she said, just loud enough for everyone to hear. “I cannot condone you, but I won’t condemn you either. I forgave the others - even Daud - for the death of my mother. It would be beyond hypocritical of me to condemn you when I welcomed them into my home and family.” 

Gerome glanced at Emily. “I ain’t gonna pick a fight with you, but I ain’t about to trust you anytime soon.” Cedric nodded in agreement.

“I didn’t expect…” Billie said slowly, staring at Emily. “I didn’t expect that, I just… was tired of keeping secrets. I. I’m sorry, so sorry, for Bran, and the others, and everything. I didn’t know but that’s a poor excuse.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, Empress.”

“Nevertheless,” Emily said. “If my father and I could forgive them, I can also forgive you.” She bumped Gerome’s shoulder, then Cedric’s. “I won’t say it’ll be easy, but thank you for telling me - us - the truth.”

“Hmph,” Gerome grunted.

Billie swept a bow. “Thank you, Empress. I’ll… leave you to plan. I imagine it’ll go better if I’m not here.” She moved past them, hesitating only a little, before disappearing inside the ship.

“Cal,” Emily said, watching her go. “Keep an eye on her. Just in case.” 

Calla grinned. “Aw, girlie, we all will.” She slipped inside to shadow Billie.

Emily waved a hand in front of her eyes and looked around the ship. She sighed, seeing the shadow of the Outsider on the balcony over their heads. “Get down here, Step-Bot,” she called up to him. “Show’s over.”

The Outsider dropped his camouflage and hopped down from the balcony with a thump.

“I’m eternally surprised by your family line,” he said, strolling over to her. “She actively participated in your mother’s murder and you forgive her? Fascinating.”

“So did Daud,” Emily said. “And Uncle, and Thom. It does her ghost no good to hold on to that, I choose to let her rest. If I condemn Billie Lurk for her actions, then I have to condemn Daud, and Gerome, and Thomas and every other Whaler as well.” She shrugged. “I’m not happy about it, but it’s the logical and rational thing to do.” 

“Very good,” he said. “Very neat reasoning, and very well thought out.”

Emily snorted. “Thanks,” she said dryly. 

The Outsider studied her. “Do you require a hug?”

She eyed him. “Are you going to give me one if I say yes or are you going to tell someone else to do it?”

The Outsider grinned. “Well, I would have chosen Gerome, despite his bony edges. If you’d prefer a different candidate, I’ll rearrange their ranking.”

Rolling her eyes, Emily sighed. “I knew you were going to say that,” she said. She glanced over at the far side of the ship where Thomas and Daud stood. “It’s almost dark, we should go over the plan and get going,” she said after a beat of silence. “And also, Uncle is always at the top of the list, for your information.”

“Aw,” Gerome said, smirking at the Outsider, the tightness in his eyes relaxing slightly. “I’m the favourite.”

“But now that you can hug,” Emily added, “you’re probably between Thomas and Cedric on the list. Your awkwardness is very endearing.”

The Outsider frowned. “Clearly, I must work harder at being unhuggable,” he said, darkly. “Perhaps resting my full weight on you would work.”

“I will leave you on this ship,” she threatened him, smiling to take the sting away. 

“You couldn’t even if you wanted to,” he said, smirking.

Emily grinned back at him, feeling the tension ease out of her shoulders. “Uncle, you’ll come, won’t you? I made plans to meet up with the Twins and Alexi at the black market shop they helped set up, so we can send the others to do recon, and clear the path for us, but I’m just taking a team of two into the Tower with me.” 

“Of-fuckin’-course I’m comin’ with you, Sparrow,” he assured. “Y’don’t even need to ask.”

She inhaled slowly. “Okay. Regroup in ten, gather what you need and let’s go meet the Twins.”

*

Emily saw Alexi’s hair first, and she broke away from the others to bolt up the stairs of the docks and fling herself at Alexi. Despite Alexi’s pallid complexion and overall malnourished appearance, she caught Emily and hugged her back equally as hard. 

“You're alive!” Emily said. “I knew it but oh, it's so good to  _ see _ it!” 

Alexi laughed, pulling back to look at her. “By the Void, it's good to see you again,” she said. 

Her next words were cut off as the Twins loomed  over them, plucking Emily from her grip to sandwich her in a back-cracking bear hug. “I'm so glad you too two are okay,” Emily said, muffled. “But. Air? Can't breathe!”

Rinaldo laughed and squeezed her tighter. “Nope. You're stuck with us.” 

“Until you give us our present, at least,” Rulfio said. “We didn’t forget!”

Emily pulled away, holding both their sleeves. “I met someone in Karnaca,” she began to say and Rulfio gasped in exaggerated delight. 

“You're dumping Wyman?!”

Emily sighed. “No. Shut up. I met someone in Karnaca, and he helped out Daud and I. Once he was introduced to me though, I knew I had to tell you. His name is Paolo Escobar.”

Rinaldo and Rulfio both went silent, staring at her. “What?” Alexi asked.

“He told us he lost his sons to an Overseer raid that killed his wife. The boys were twins, she named them Rulfio. And Rinaldo. Paolo has been ravaging Karnaca looking for the Overseers his boys became. But.” 

“You found our father?” 

“I did,” she said. “He didn't come with us, but I did bring home everyone else.”

“Hey, Trouble 1, Trouble 2,” Cedric greeted, very clearly trying to appear cool. Gerome, meanwhile, stormed up to both of them and pulled them into a rough hug.

“Fuckin’ dumbasses,” he growled. “Everyone was worried sick.”

“Aw,” the Twins chorused. “Mama Hagfish!” They let Emily go to hug him back, and Rinaldo pulled Cedric into the midst as well.

Daud and Thomas came up after them. “Good to see you in one piece,” Thomas called over. 

Rinaldo waved, but Rulfio squirmed out of Gerome’s grip to hug Thomas and Daud quickly, Dashing back before Daud could swipe at him. “Daud, we missed you,” he said quickly. “And where is my Morlish Rose? We have a beautiful artist back home waiting for her!”

Calla grabbed both of them, lifting them off of their feet in a hug. “Aw, I knew you’d keep Amelie safe for me, my wee troublemakers.”

“She's been making us masks to hide our faces when we leave. And we sell ‘em on the Market too. She'll be happy to see you, Cal,” Rinaldo said, still wrapped around Cedric. 

“Is she in her apartment?” Calla asked. “Because I’ll need to do a surprise visit.” She waggled her eyebrows and grinned.

Rinaldo shook his head. “No, we had to move her out of there when the witches raided Draper’s Ward. They went for all the women who weren’t noble and were…” He made a face. “Artistic, fashionable. We had some trouble but got her out safely before Delilah could reach her. We’re holed up in the Distillery District right now, inside the refinery. It’s only got one entrance and exit, and Slackjaw’s crew has been kind to us.”

Calla nodded, pressing a kiss to Rulfio’s cheek. “Thank you for keeping her safe.”

“Of course,” Rulfio said. “She’s one of us, isn’t she?” 

Alexi hugged Emily again before pulling away and smoothing down her ragged uniform. “So, Em. What’s the plan.”

Emily rubbed her forehead. “Well, we know how to defeat Delilah, we just have to get close enough to get to her. I’m taking Uncle and the Outsider into the Tower with me - I need the rest of you running interference and taking out witches who could stop us.”

“The Outsider is in your head, of course you’re taking him,” Alexi said dismissively. “You need a second.”

Half turning, Emily sought out the Outsider who was standing at the top of the stairs, lifting an eyebrow. 

The Outsider leapt neatly from the top of the stairs, landing precisely between the Twins.

“Hello, Escobars,” he drawled, pulling off his sunglasses so they could see his black-and-silver eyes. He smirked.

“I have a second,” Emily said. “It’s the Outsider.”

Rinaldo took a giant step backward. “Nope,” he said. “Nope. No. Put that back where it came from.”

Rulfio crept up and poked the Outsider in the spine. “Did you kill someone and take over their body?” he asked. 

The Outsider’s smile broadened. “Why, what an excellent idea. Thank you for volunteering.”

“Emily would kill you, and so would Corvo,” Rulfio said. “He will literally come haunt you if you try, and you know it.” 

Emily winced. “Please, let’s not give anyone ideas, okay? Just. Get your stuff, Cal, head to the Distillery with Pip once he’s done with the skiff, and hold down the fort there, yes?” 

“It will be good to see my darling again,” Calla said. “Come along, boyo. We have things to do.”

Pip scrambled up from where he was tying the skiff off, hugging the Twins quickly. “I’m going to mess with your setup,” he promised. “Change all the settings!”

“ _ Crispin Vega, don’t you dare _ ,” Rulfio began but Cal and Pip were already Dashing away. 

Emily smiled as they disappeared, and she turned back to the others. “Thom, Daud, you two lead the rest into the city. Start corralling survivors, taking out witches, and move toward the Tower. Keep in radio contact, if Delilah has eyes on the city, I want her looking and you lot, and not us.”

Daud nodded once. “Of course. We’ll clear the way. Rulfio, Rinaldo, take your girl and make some noise.”

The Twins grinned in unison. “Naturally,” they said in chorus. 

Rulfio’s grin widened. “You should see the toys I stole from the guard,” he added. “Don’t worry, it makes a lot of noise.”

Alexi rolled her eyes but hugged Emily again. “Stay safe, don’t die,” she instructed. “You have to tell me all about this magic business once it’s over.”

Emily nodded. “Be safe, don’t die,” she agreed. “See you soon.”

The Twins Dashed away while Alexi jogged behind them, whistling sharply. Several Overseer hounds melted out of the alleys to join her. When Emily turned around, Daud and Thomas were already gone, leaving her alone with the Outsider and Gerome. 

“Well,” Gerome said, watching after the disappeared Twins. “I guess this is it.”

“Time to make Delilah pay for what she’s done,” the Outsider added.

“Yeah, about that.” Gerome turned to Emily. “Em, I know I’ve been tellin’ you to do what your ol’ man woulda done, but this is gonna be different. Delilah came back from what Daud did to her. An’ her level of crazy? You’re gonna need to put her the fuck down. You can’t hesitate, alright?”

Emily pressed her lips together. “My father didn’t kill Havelock because the system would do it for us. Delilah exists outside any system, and I’d like to think he wouldn’t judge me harshly for killing her. I promise you Uncle, I will not hesitate.”

“Good,” Gerome said, and hugged her tightly. “You know I got your back, whatever you choose.”

She leaned against him briefly. “Yes, Uncle, I know. Thanks.” Emily drew in a deep breath, holding it for a second to steady her nerves. “You should go over to the Market and get more stun mines. Thomas took most of them. We’ll head toward the Tower after.”

“Well, you know me,” he drawled. “I always like more explosives.”

“I don’t know if Delilah will have any of those super soldier android things,” Emily said with a half shrug. “But the stun mines knock them out easily. Better to be safe, etcetera.” 

“Do try to remember to not catch me in the blast,” the Outsider reminded them. “I fear to see what high levels of electricity could do to my skin.”

“Uncle has nearly perfect aim,” Emily said loyally. “He won’t accidentally catch you.” 

“ _ Nearly?!”  _ Gerome demanded, outraged.

She grinned at him. “Nearly,” she agreed.

Gerome scowled. “I’ll ‘nearly’ you,” he muttered.

“If you’d rather stand here and banter,” the Outsider drawled. “I suppose  _ I _ can be the one to topple Delilah’s illegitimate rule and rule the Isles.”

Emily pointed at the Black Pony Pub. “Uncle. Market. Outsider, don’t start. Get me some solutions too, by the way,” she added as Gerome walked by her, grumbling under his breath.

As soon as he’d gone up the stairs into the old converted pub, Emily turned to the Outsider. “If I hesitate for any reason,” she said quietly, “or if it looks like I can’t or won’t make it in time. Take the shot for me, Step-Bot. Uncle will want to, but we both know if I go down he won’t be in any condition to do much.” 

The Outsider tilted his head, staring at her with an odd expression. “If you believe I won’t be affected by your incapacitation, you haven’t been paying attention.”

Emily smiled but shook her head. “No, that’s not what I’m saying at all, Step-Bot. If I’m incapacitated, between the two of you, you’re the only one who can shove human emotion behind himself. You’re the only one who can… compartmentalize like that. I know you’d be affected. I just also know you won’t let it stop you.”

“I promise that, in the unlikely event of your incapacitation, I will break Delilah’s neck for you,” he said.

She kissed his cheek. “Thanks, Step-Bot,” she murmured. 

He patted her head. “Cease these unsightly displays of emotion,” he deadpanned.

“Never, you’re stuck with them,” Emily said instantly. The Outsider sighed.

She did move away from him though, rooting through her bag and dumping out anything that wasn’t immediately necessary. When Gerome returned from the shop above them, she took the Addermire solutions and laid them carefully inside, and hooked the three stun mines she’d liberated from Anton to her belt, making sure they didn’t interfere with her blade and pistol. 

“You two ready?” she asked, pulling her hair down and fixing it, so the loose, rebellious strands were tight against her head. 

“Ready as ever,” Gerome said, spinning a switchblade between his fingers.

The Outsider started removing his clothing, folding it up in a neat pile in the skiff and pulling out a bundle. “Now, I am,” he said, his black body suit covering him from neck to toe.

Emily nodded, pulling the scarf up over her nose. “Let’s go.”

*

When they came upon the gate into the Tower District, there were sounds of explosions heard through the half-rusted, half-pried-open door. When Emily slipped through, she blinked in surprise. 

First, she noticed the statues lining the street up toward the Tower, all of them supporting Overseer masks. Second, there was a tallboy standing on the half-collapsed roof of a guard house, raining down smoking arrows. 

Emily’s comm crackled to life. “Don’t shoot the tallboy, Em,” Alexi said, sounding out of breath. “Rulfio’s in there.”

“Oh my god,” Emily said. “Who the hell gave Rulfio a tallboy?!” 

“I did,” Alexi said. “Calm down, he’s fine. We’ve got the witches on lockdown though, so just run through.”

Emily gestured the Outsider and Gerome through the door. “Well,” she said to them. “Alexi gave the Twins a tallboy to play with, so we should run for our lives.”

“You have got to be fuckin’ kiddin’ me,” Gerome groaned. “After what happened last time?! Why am I th’ only goddamn adult?”

“Complain later, run now,” Emily said, and Reached. 

There were witches but every single one of them was distracted by Rulfio in his stolen tallboy - not that their own Reaches could make it up high enough to catch him inside the shielded seat. 

Alexi and her hounds took down another two witches just beyond Rulfio, and Rinaldo was nowhere to be seen, just the way he liked it. Emily was impressed despite herself, even as she Reached and ran through the fighting to make it up the front steps of her Tower. 

Pushing open the doors, Emily had to take a deep breath to settle her stomach. The entire front entrance was trashed, garbage and broken tech strewn about, shelves tipped over, books ripped and defaced. The portrait of her mother that had hung in the hall was torn to shreds, graffiti scribbled across her face. 

Gerome growled at the sight. “Nothin’ fuckin’ safe from these reprobates.”

The hall was dim, lit instead by candles and ancient whale oil lamps. Emily looked up at the ceiling, and scowled. “The power’s out,” she said, pointing to one of the dead camera sensors in the corner. “It would be glowing green otherwise. We’re going to have to get to the breaker in the basement if we want to use the elevator up to the throne room.” 

“Great,” Gerome grunted. “Like nothin’ bad ever happens in a fuckin’ basement.”

Emily scowled at him. “If this turns into one of you cheap horror vids, I swear, Uncle.” She peered around a fallen shelf to look through the main hall. There were bodies everywhere, rotten or fresh, where no one had cleaned them up. Servants lay with nobles who had tried to flee, and there were Overseers hanging from the rafters. 

The basement door was unguarded, and Emily waved a hand in front of her face to turn on her void gaze, eyeing all the exits. “It’s safe enough,” she said. “Let’s move.” 

She Reached across the expanse of floor, and slid to a halt in front of the basement door, unlocking it with the Tower Master Keycard she’d kept during her wild flight so many months ago. Emily pushed open the door, making a path for Gerome and the Outsider. 

The basement stairwell was dark, but Emily stepped around refuse and junk with sure feet, thanks to her Void Gaze. 

Gerome stumbled, cursing softly under his breath. The Outsider snorted.

“Are your eyes going in your advanced age?” he teased.

“Fuck off,” Gerome grumbled. “I can’t fuckin’ see.”

The Outsider began to glow faintly. Not very much, but enough to just barely make out obstacles. Gerome made an impressed noise.

“You got a hell of a lot of tricks for a sex bot,” he said.

“I’ve been making modifications.”

Gerome paused. “Now that’s a scary fuckin’ thought.”

Emily stepped out into the pantry and main kitchens, kneeling down by the still warm corpse of one of the maids. “Someone else is down here,” she said, closing the maid’s eyes. “Be on your guard.” 

Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention, and Emily turned her head just enough to see it - standing in the corner to her Void-touched eyes, she could see the outline of a man. When it moved however, she realized belatedly that the man was no man at all, as the air rippled with an invisible thing, just like the Outsider. “Outsider, on your left!” she shouted, leaping to her feet. 

The Outsider moved, faster than humanly possible and slammed the figure into a wall. Concrete shattered, and metal screamed. Electricity crackled, snapping through the other android.  The two tumbled to the floor, as the Outsider ripped the android apart until it ceased functioning.

“A prototype,” he murmured. The skin on his knuckles and fingertips was torn, exposing steel beneath. “Fast, but not fast enough.”

Emily stared at him, before exhaling slowly. “Your hand okay?” she asked. “I’ve got some gloves in my bag that Thom bought if you need them.”

The Outsider waved her off. “Repairs can wait until Delilah is dead.”

She nodded, still looking at the prototype before turning on her heel and heading deeper into the basement. She went straight for the door that led down into the electrical closet, swiping her keycard through the metal lock. It glowed green but when she tried to open it, she felt the door hit something large. “Oh come  _ on _ ,” she said, pushing harder and only succeeding in opening the door a few inches. 

Emily backed up a few steps and kicked the door in, knocking the heavy shelf into the wall. The room had been trashed like the rest of the Tower, but the circuit breaker had been left alone. The fuses were fine, if a bit dusty, and it looked like someone had just turned the entire powerboard off. 

“If you’re not in the system, Everyman takes over by default, right, Step-Bot?” Emily asked, fingers hovering over the switch to repower the entire system.

“In an ideal time, yes. Unfortunately, Delilah was also in the system. She is what I was fleeing when you offered me an escape route, if you recall.”

She nodded. “True. But there’s a chance he could wake up when I turn this on and give us away. Okay. One… Two… Three.”

She flipped the switch and the lights turned on with a flicker. “Everyman,” she barked. “This is Empress Emily Drexel Lela Kaldwin, and I need you to  _ not verbally respond  _ unless you use  _ only  _ the speakers to the Circuit Breaker room.”

There was a long pause, before the speaker in the corner suddenly hissed to life. [I understand, Empress Kaldwin. What is your command?]

She slumped a little in relief. “You are currently under attack, Everyman, so my command is to lay low and stay hidden from the false Empress in your system. Keep out of her way, and especially keep out of the Outsider’s way if he’s reintroduced to the system.”

[These parameters are acceptable,] the AI said placidly. 

“Thank you,” Emily said. “Commence stand by mode until you hear from me, the Outsider, Lord Gerome Burton or Lord Corvo Attano.”

[Understood,] Everyman said, and the speakers crackled into silence. 

Emily turned back to Gerome and the Outsider. “I won’t be able to take the ‘Net back until she’s gone but at least Everyman is functional, just in case,” she said. “Come on, with everything back up and running, we can take the elevator up.” 

At the top of the stairs, Emily renewed her Void Gaze and paused, looking down the hall. There was someone lying curled up on the floor just inside her range, and as she looked, whoever it was moved, sitting up and obviously leaning against something. 

“There’s someone over there,” she said, pointing. “But, it doesn’t look like a witch - too masculine, I think. Maybe not a threat either.” 

“You think maybe he’s a prisoner?” Gerome asked.

“He was laying on the floor,” Emily reported. “And if I recall correctly, that room is a small servant’s room, without much more than a cot and a toilet.” She crept down the hall and swiped her keycard through the lock.

The door unlocked, and she stood straight, pulling open the door and hoping she wasn’t wrong. 

“Holy  _ shit _ ,” she cursed. “ _ Martin.” _

“Emily?” Martin mumbled. He was covered with bruises and abrasions, but the direst wounds were the raw pits where his eyes used to be. “No, I’m not falling for that again. I know you’ve laced my food with something again, ladies. Emily is still far out of your reach.”

She covered her mouth and knelt in front of him, hesitant to touch him. “No, oh. Teague, it’s me. I’m here, I’m back. I came back. I’m here with Gerome Burton, and the Outsider, and everyone.” She fumbled with her pack, pulling out an elixir. “I promise, it’s me.”

“If that don’t persuade you,” Gerome said, crouching next to Martin. “Then I’m sure th’ dulcet tones of my voice will. Doubt even your twisty brain would subject you to this.”

“Burton?” Martin reached out blindly, and Gerome caught one of his hands. “Why did you let Emily come back? Delilah is dangerous! More than dangerous! I hit her with some improvised explosives and she didn’t even flinch. Of course, she wasn’t exactly happy after.”

“How the fuck do you know how to make explosives,” Gerome demanded.

“The perils of a misspent youth,” Martin replied, dryly. Despite his flippant tone, his voice was shaking.

Emily leaned forward, taking his other hand and pressing the elixir into it. “I know how to defeat her, Teague,” she murmured. “I’ve been in Karnaca all this time, I can kill her. I’m going to end this, I promise.” 

Martin held the elixir gingerly. His hands were shaking.

“Burton, can you…”

“Yeah, sure.” Gerome took the elixir from him and opened it. “Head back. This is gonna burn.”

“I’ve clearly had worse,” Martin growled through gritted teeth. “Get on with it.”

Emily grabbed his hands again, lacing their fingers together and squeezing gently. “We’ve got you, Teague,” she murmured. 

“Three, two, one,” Gerome counted, then poured the elixir into the raw flesh around Martin’s eyes. Martin made a thin, high noise of agony, his hand spasming and clenching around Emily’s. Gerome held his head steady as the tendons stood out in Martin’s neck.

Martin shivered in the aftermath, pale. The elixir streaming from his eye sockets was all too reminiscent of the blood from an infected Augment’s eyes.

Emily shifted forward, using part of her jacket to clear away his cheeks before she pulled him into a loose embrace. “I’m so sorry, Teague,” she murmured. 

Martin just shuddered in her arms, managing an uncoordinated attempt at returning the embrace. “Y’have nothing to be sorry about,” he slurred, a hint of a Morley accent brought out by his distress.

“I left you here,” Emily said, tightening her grip on him. “I left everyone to Delilah for months. My father is a statue in my own throne room, and my closest colleagues are either dead, or.” She took a deep breath. “It’s not my fault, no. But I’m still sorry for what you’ve suffered. I’m so glad you’re alive, Teague.” 

“Yeah, let me… get back to you on the alive part,” he managed, a weak attempt at his usual sly wit.

She gave him the chuckle he was aiming for. “Teague Martin, you’ve survived two coups, assassination attempts, and countless injuries in your life. You’ll survive this too.” She pulled back, framing his face with her hands. “We have to go - I’ll come back for you. I promise. Will you be alright here?”

Martin gently pressed her away. “I’ll be fine. Apparently, I’m not nearly as much fun anymore.” Emily didn’t bother to restrain her flinch to that. “Hush, I’ll be fine. You’ll have to tell me all about your heroic reclaiming of your throne, later.” He chuckled. “Like father, like daughter, I suppose. He would be so proud of you, Emily.”

Emily blinked back tears. “Thanks, Teague,” she said. She squeezed his hands and pulled away. “Be safe. I’ll be back.”

She stood on shaky legs, looking down at Martin for a long moment before stepping out into the hallway. Emily clenched her fists, breathing deeply for a second. 

The Outsider stepped up to her. “We will set this right,” he murmured to her. “High Overseer Martin will be able to continue his scheming and reforms, I promise.”

“Yes,” Emily said, relaxing her fingers. “We will set this right.” She turned back down the hall. “Delilah will pay for this. Pay for  _ everything _ .” 

Once Gerome had exited Martin’s room and closed the door behind him, Emily Reached down the hall and started up the stairs. She could hear Gerome and the Outsider behind her, and she barely paused through the kitchen on her way back toward the main hall. She made it to the elevator first, and she pulled the trash away from the front of the door and pulled it open.

“Ready?” she asked the Outsider and Gerome when they appeared behind her. 

Gerome nodded, his jaw set. He pulled out a fistful of knives and held them between his fingers. The Outsider stepped forward, drawing even with him and he unrolled the bundle of cloth, and pulled out the heart.

Emily climbed into the elevator, holding open the door for them. “To the roof,” she murmured, pressing the button.

Thankfully, despite its disuse, the elevator rose smoothly up to the roof where the entrance to the main Tower was. 

As soon as the elevator stopped, Emily stepped out into the roof garden. There were two witches guarding the entrance to the throne room, and Emily snarled, dissolving into shadow. She swarmed across the dead grass, grabbing both of the witches and slamming them into the ground, filling their mouths with shadow until they fell unconscious. 

She stepped out of the mist and brushed off her hands. Heading without stopping toward the doors to the throne room. Once there, Emily paused, turning toward the Outsider and holding out a hand. “I can take the heart from here,” she said. “You’ve carried it for me all this way, I can take it for five minutes.”

The Outsider handed it over with a tight, vicious smile. “I will be glad to see the end of this.”

She squeezed the heart once. “Yes,” she agreed. “Delilah dies today.” 

Emily threw open the doors, Reaching in one smooth move toward where Delilah stood. Her back was to the doors, a large painting dominating one side of the room. As soon as Emily came within a few feet of her, the heart flew out of her hand. There was a brief, weighted second before magic exploded around them. 

She was thrown off her feet, slamming into the reaching statue of Corvo. Delilah laughed through the maelstrom of wind and magic and Void. “So you returned to me my heart,” she said. “It’s too late, Niece! My world is complete!”

Before Emily could get her legs under her, Delilah leapt into her painting, the oil rippling around her escape. 

“No!” Emily shrieked, Reaching out and landing just in front of the painting. Without thinking about it, Emily dove after her. 

“ _ Emily! _ ”

*

The world Emily fell into was… strange, to say the least. It was a strange world that looked it was taken directly from old paintings of the Dunwall that Was, filled with strange statues all staring at the throne where Delilah sat.

A strange humming rang through the whole room and Emily’s throat closed up. Her mother used to hum this tune to her when she was a young girl - she hadn’t heard it in years. She waved a hand in front of her eyes, switching to her void gaze, staring around at the statues.

In the midst of each group was a wavering, shining yellow finger and Emily narrowed her eyes, trying to focus. 

She twisted her fingers and her magic, carefully linking up each of the living statues she could see. She stretched her magic as hard and as far as it could go and only managed to link four of the six Delilah’s she could see. 

It would have to be good enough.

She Reached over to the closest living statue and slammed her blade through the side of its throat. She expected to meet resistance, but instead the blade slid through as though it was human skin.

Just like Daud taught her, she angled the blade downward and punched the blade through the front of the statue’s throat.

All around her, statues fell. 

The Delilah in her throne leapt to her feet, the statue closest to her joining her, and Emily reached around to her belt, unhooking a stun mine and flinging it at Delilah. 

She missed by a mile, but it landed in the center of the faux-throne room. Emily Reached over and took a stand there, her stance wide and read. “Come and get me, Delilah!” she snarled.

The statue gave a mocking bow and froze there, cold stone once more.

Delilah drew her own blade, reaching out a hand and flinging thorns at her. 

Emily snarled, dissolving into smoke and shadows, backing away from Delilah, hoping to coerce her over the stun mine.

Instead, Delilah appeared behind her, slamming her sword through the smoke that was Emily. 

Pain speared through her and she swarmed away, reforming. She was uninjured at least, but she ached in strange ways. Emily Reached forward, knocking her sword into Delilah’s, and swung with her free hand.

Delilah looked comically surprised when Emily punched her in the face, and Emily spun her around. It was just like all the other times she’d done it, muscle memory, not magic, and Emily held her blade to Delilah’s throat.

“You lose,” she breathed. “The Empress is dead.” 

And Emily cut Delilah’s throat.

She stepped over the cooling corpse, and back through the painting’s exit. 

As soon as she stepped through the painting, Emily raced to Corvo's side, ignoring the way Gerome berated her for leaving them behind. She waited, bouncing on her toes. “Come on, come on, she's dead, father  _ please _ .”

A minute passed. Another. Another.

Corvo remained stone. 

Emily whirled to face the Outsider. “You said,” she whispered. “You said there was a  _ 96 percent chance.  _ You said the spell would  _ end!” _

The Outsider's face was twisted in despair, his hands fists at his sides. “It should work. It should have worked.”

Emily turned back to Corvo but he was unmoving, a statue still.

“Step-Bot,  _ please,”  _ she whispered. 

The Outsider made a low noise of distress, half static. “I'm sorry, Emily. I'm so sorry.”

She turned away from the statue - the corpse - of her father. Gerome stood a few feet from the Outsider, hands in tight fists. “Uncle,” She murmured, and he shook his head, Dashing away. 

Emily covered her mouth with both hands, sobs rising in her throat. In slow motion, Emily crumpled to her knees, shoulders shaking. The Outsider stepped closer to the statue, head bowed. “I'm sorry, my Host,” the Outsider said. “Come, my dear,” he added, obviously to Emily. “We shouldn't linger.”

He lifted her easily, and she burrowed into his embrace. “I'm not ready for this,” she cried quietly. 

The Outsider hushed her quietly. “I know,” he replied. 

He held her until she was cried out, and slowly she pulled away until Emily could face the statue. “I'm sorry, Father,” she said.

“I tried.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads-up, theres a mention of a character making some mistakes that seem like a suicide attempt (they consider taking sedatives when very drunk). It isn't, but I wanted to warn anyone just in case.

“I’m sorry,” Daud said. “Corvo’s… statue is rooted in the floor of the throne room. The only way we’re getting him out is if we break his feet, or the floor - which runs the risk of breaking his feet.”

Emily flinched. “Let’s… not do that,” she said. “I don’t know what we’re going to do but, breaking him -  _ it  _ \- is not an option.” She sighed, looking down at her desk. The feed on her terminal showed the empty throne room, but she knew without seeing it that the Outsider was likely still there. “If nothing else than because the Outsider would… object.”

Daud pulled a face, rubbing his forehead. “If nothing else,” he agreed. “We’re doing the best we can - High Overseer Martin is rallying the Overseers, and they’ve retaken Holger Square. The Bottle Street Gang has started the cleanup process of most of John Clavering and the surrounding area. We’re all working at putting things right.” 

“Whereas the nobles are trickling back into Dunwall like they never had any doubts, and if one more person tells me how much faith they had in me, I might scream,” Emily muttered. “I’m worried about Gerome, I’m worried about the Outsider - I don’t want to hear it, Daud - and I wasn’t… expecting to do this alone.”

Daud rolled his eyes. “You aren’t alone,” he pointed out. “You have all of my Whalers, and despite Burton’s inability to remain sober at night, he’s got your back.” He sat down in the chair across from her. “You’re going to have to pick a cabinet and a Parliament, and  _ fast _ .” 

Emily groaned. “I know. I already started the process of reestablishing Parliament, and reopening the trade routes. Morley is hesitant but at least Luca has already sent ships of goods.”

She said Luca’s name with heavy sarcasm, but spun the terminal so Daud could see the list of supplies. “I have a meeting with Teague tomorrow to discuss Overseer presence, and later today I have Paolo Escobar for a vidconfrence. It feels insane, how much clean up we have to do.”

“You're doing fine,” Daud said. It was likely meant to sound reassuring but Emily only managed a weak grimace in response. “Let me bring Billie on board,” Daud said when awkward silence fell. “She'll start ferrying people and things and it's a captain you at least know won't skim the books.”

“Fine,” Emily said. “Get her settled.” She stood, turning off her terminal. “I'm going to find Uncle and see if I can pour some food into him.” She paused at the door. “Daud, what do  _ you  _ think I should do about the… statue?”

He turned to watch her go. “Get rid of it,” he answered with a sigh. “It's just going to hurt you in the long run.”

She sighed again. “Yeah,” she said, thinking of the invisible Outsider, and the full glass of alcohol at Gerome's side at dinner. “Thanks, Daud.”

Gerome wasn't far - he never was, anymore - at the end of the hall, a small pile of cigarette stubs around his feet. “Hey Uncle,” she said. “I've got a lunch meeting with - I don't even know, Peverly and the surviving noble families. Mind coming with?”

Gerome glanced up at her. The dark circles under his eyes were more prominent than ever, and his usually expressive face was blank.

“Sure, Em,” he said, pushing away from the wall. He followed her down the hall in uncharacteristic silence.

Emily hid her wince. “Promise you'll protect my honour from Otto and his ilk?” she asked, striving for a teasing tone. 

Gerome offered her a weak smile. “Sure, kiddo.” He reached to tousle her hair, but withdrew before he made contact.

She darted under his arm and hugged him tightly, taking the opening. “I got a marriage proposal this morning,” She said. “From Peverly and his family.”

Gerome sighed. “You’d break him in half,” he drawled. “‘Specially the way you are now.” He paused. “Mebbe I should remind him he’d end up with me as a family member if he did.”

Emily chuckled. “I don’t think they care overmuch, since it would make Otto Prince-Consort, ugh, even saying that out loud made my skin crawl.”

Gerome patted her back. “Yer young an’ beautiful, Em. It ain’t gonna end with just Otto, sadly.” He made a contemplative face. “Though, between me ‘n the other Whalers, we’re pretty fuckin’ good at interceptin’ them an’...  _ dissuadin’  _ them of the notion.”

“I’m still waiting on Wyman,” she murmured, tightening her grip on Gerome before pulling away. “I don’t want to marry anyone from Parliament.”

“Atta girl,” Gerome said, softly. “You show those choffers.”

“If.” Emily paused but forged on. “If they can accept me as Empress after finding out Corvo was my father, they’ll learn to accept Wyman as Consort.”

“They will, or I’ll shoot out their kneecaps,” Gerome growled.

She grinned at him. “Come on, let’s go eat all of Peverly’s expensive food and ignore his heavy-handed hints.”

“After you,” Gerome said, with a teasing bow.

She stepped into the elevator, holding the door for him. “Fifty coin says that the first thing they mention is if I’ve checked my messages yet today,” she bet.

Gerome chuckled, a rough noise. “No bet, kiddo. I don’ wanna lose my coin that easily.”

Emily jostled him with her shoulder. “Aw,” she said, affecting a pout. “I’m telling the Twins on you.”

“Ah, they ain’t got nothin’ on me that I can’t match,” Gerome drawled, unaffected.

Emily thought about it. “They were given a tallboy,” she reminded him. 

Gerome sighed. “At least no one broke their fuckin’ leg this time. An’ I got practice disablin’ those.”

She snorted. “That’s true. I’ll figure something out,” she said, leaning against him. “Maybe I’ll drag Step-Bot to my next real meeting with them, he can stare at them over my shoulder.”

Gerome winced. “Maybe not the best idea, Sparrow,” he warned. “Remember? He crushed that one guy’s wrist when he tried to touch Co- th’ statue.”

Emily had been pointedly not thinking about that. “I was hoping that it would be different. Better for him to get… some space from the statue. But I don’t really want to separate them either.” She crossed her arms over her chest, chewing her lip. “I’m worried about him.”

Gerome sighed, rubbing his face. “Yeah, me too. I haven’t seen him since then, but whenever I ping him on th’ comms, he just gives me some ‘bot reply.”

She took a second to debate whether or not to spill the beans and settled on, “He hides out near Co- the statue a lot,” instead. “When he’s not there, he’s in my office or my room. He doesn’t talk much though.”

Gerome grunted in acknowledgement. “He invisible, then?”

Emily nodded. “During the day, he watches over the whole area, yeah. At night…” She trails off with another shrug. “Depends on the day.” She frowned, rubbing her arms to stave off a sudden chill. “I found him in my flat last night, sitting in the chair closest to the door - only saw him because of magic.” 

Gerome gave her a concerned look. “You want me to have a word with him?” he asked.

“You can, if you think it’ll help.” She leaned back against the bars of the elevator. “He’s clearly hurting, but either can’t or won’t process it. I know he’s been watching over me at night, now especially that I’ve caught him at it. But he won’t talk to me except to as you say - Bot speak at me.”

Gerome leaned back against the wall. “I’ll… See what I can fuckin’ do,” he promised, wearily. “I ain’t any good at this shit, but fuck if I won’t try.”

“You’re better than you think you are,” Emily said. She nudged him. “How are  _ you _ holding up, Uncle?” she asked gently.

Gerome shrugged. “It sucks, but I can fuckin’ cope.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to refute that, but Emily subsided. “Yeah,” she agreed listlessly. “Seems like that’s all we do, now.” She finally pressed the button to open the doors. “I seem to have all my important meetings in the elevator now,” she said, trying on a smile. “Alexi and I ended up between the floors for like, an hour yesterday.”

Gerome offered her a weak smirk. “Sounds like the set-up for a rom-com.”

She heaved a sigh. “Sadly, Alexi doesn’t like women. A tragedy.”

Gerome patted her shoulder. “There, there, Sparrow. There are other bitty badasses in the sea. Probably.”

“If you find one, point her at me, would you?” Emily asked, with a genuine smile. “Having a scandal in the romance portion of my life is just what Dunwall needs right now.”

Gerome gave her a steady look. “Please don’t start a fuckin’ harem, Em.”

“Ooh, there’s an idea,” she said, stepping out of the elevator and into the front hall. “Wyman would get at least 30% of a vote there. Good idea, Uncle.”

“I’ve created a fuckin’ monster,” Gerome deadpanned, amused. “Remember they have to go through the Whaler gauntlet before they’re okayed for datin’.”

“If they're all badass, that shouldn't be a problem,” Emily said primly. “Speaking of. Later tonight I have a conference call with Paolo - I invited the Twins up, if you wanted to see that meeting.”

Gerome smiled a little, softly. “Y’know me,” he said. “I’m a sucker for family reunions.”

“I didn't tell them why I wanted them, just told them to be at my office. They're nervous enough, and Alexi thought it would be hilarious.”

“The Twins’ve been bad influences on her,” Gerome mused.

Emily nodded solemnly. “Alright. Once more into the breach,” She muttered, calling up a train carriage to take her to the Peverly estate. “Ready, Uncle?

Gerome checked his weapons. “Yup. Let’s go.”

*

“Yes,” Emily said, smiling for the first time in the weeks since finding out Corvo would remain a statue. “I promise, Paolo, they’re on their way.” She glanced at the clock and sighed. “Neither of them are particularly punctual people, thought.”

Paolo wheezed a nervous laugh, smoking heavily, the smoke filling up the vid screen for a second before he waved it away. “They get that from their mother.”

“They get it from Daud,” Emily said dryly.

Daud, who had been standing in the corner, paused to scowl at her. “No one asked for your opinion,” he said.

Gerome smirked from the other side of the room. “Nah, but it’s true.”

“Fuck off, Burton,” Daud grumbled. 

“Language,” Alexi said, laughing from her position next to Emily. “You’re supposed to be the  _ adults _ .”

“We’re the fuckin’ foster parents is what we are,” Gerome muttered.

Alexi thought about that for a second. “Fine,” she said. “I  _ guess _ I can agree with that. Emily, you’re doomed.”

“Thanks, Lex,” Emily said dryly. “I was doomed about twelve years ago though, so you’re a little late.” 

Finally, the door flew open and the Twins stumbled through, shoving each other and laughing. “Sorry,” Rulfio said. “There was a race. Rin lost.” 

“You two are a travesty,” Alexi sighed.

Emily waved them over. “If you two start play fighting in the doorway, you will not like what I have to do to stop you,” she warned them. Instead of looking worried, they both grinned and ambled over to the desk, coming to a stop just behind her and freezing.

“Em,” Rinaldo hissed. “ _ Emily _ ,  _ no. _ ”

Emily grinned. “Rin, Rulf, meet Paolo Escobar. Your father.”

Paolo dropped the cigarette, leaning closer to the camera on his terminal. “Fuck,” he swore. “You look exactly like your mother.” 

Rulfio sat heavily, even as Rinaldo backed up a few feet. “The Overseers told us,” Rulfio said, his voice hard, “that our parents didn’t want us and threw us out.”

Paolo’s lip curled. “The Overseers came to my house in Batista and killed your mother in front of you both,” he spat. “She was Augmented, and this was twenty years ago before Augments had any rights at all. They took you two when I killed two of their number trying to save her life. You were always wanted, I searched for you endlessly but they must have taken you out of Karnaca.”

Daud cleared his throat. “Found them in Cullero,” he muttered. “Dockside.”

Rulfio stared hard at the image of Paolo on the terminal screen and said, very slowly, “You wanted us?”

“I wanted you,” Paolo agreed without an ounce of hesitation.

Rulfio glanced back at Rinaldo, and Emily watched them have an entire conversation contained within their complicated expressions. Finally, Rulfio turned back around and faced the camera. “Then you should meet everyone else - like. This is Alexi Mayhew. She’s my partner. Rinaldo’s too.”

There was a slight pause as Paolo stared at Alexi who looked back without nerves or fear. “Partner,” Paolo finally repeated.

“I’m dating both of them, separately,” Alexi clarified bluntly. “They’re good men, rubbish at romance though.”

“ _ Hey _ !” the Twins chorused, wounded. “ _ Alexi _ !”

She gave them a flat look. “You pretended to be each other for the first month of our relationship,” she deadpanned. 

Paolo snorted, coughing around his cigarette. “I apologize,  _ Signora  _ Mayhew, I’m afraid they got their romantic nature from me.”

Alexi grinned at him. “Oh it’s fine, whenever they’re bad, I just make them work for it.” 

Daud winced. “Please, no,” he grumbled. 

Emily shoved Rulfio’s head out of the way, leaning back into the frame. “When Luca has everything back under control, you’re welcome to come visit, of course,” she said. “Once High Overseer Martin announces the start of Fugue, we’ll have a new year to look forward to. You’re always welcome to come to the Tower, Paolo.”

“I appreciate that, Empress,” Paolo drawled. 

She got out of the way, steering Rinaldo into her empty seat so they were both in front of the computer. “Alexi, will you lock up when they’re done?” she asked, shooing Daud and Gerome toward the door silently. “Paolo, I’ll email you when the shipments come through, but otherwise, feel free to take over my office to talk.” 

Rulfio followed her to the door, hugging her hard before she could escape. “Thanks, littlest sister,” he muttered in her ear. “Don’t worry, we’ll be kind to the office.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “If I find one cup out of place, Rulf…” she warned.

He grinned at her, and shut her own door in her face. Emily rolled her eyes and turned back to Daud and Gerome. “Daud, do you mind sticking around to make sure they’re okay? Alexi still isn’t fully healed, and you know how the Twins get.”

“Of course,” he said, leaning against the wall and lighting a cigarette of his own. “I’ll make sure they didn’t loosen the screws in your chair too.”

That sounded like Daud was speaking from experience and Emily shook her head. “... Thanks,” she murmured. She linked her arm with Gerome. “Good night, Daud,” she said. “Send me a message if things go pear-shaped here, would you? Otherwise, I’m retiring early.”

He waved her off. “Night, Empress,” he muttered around his cigarette. “See you at breakfast.”

Pulling lightly on Gerome, Emily moved down the hall toward the stairs up to her suite. “I’m glad that worked out,” she said quietly. “I was a little afraid Rin was going to bolt.”

“Rin wouldn’t leave his brother an’ Lex alone,” Gerome reassured her. “He was nervous, but that’s why Rulf took point.”

“For all the… horror and grief of the last few months,” Emily said, “Being able to reunite them makes some of it worth it.”

“Yeah,” Gerome agreed, softly. “It was good to see ‘em get along. Paolo jus’ better treat the Bitty Badass right, or he’s in for a world of trouble.”

“Lex would set him straight,” Emily said, unlocking her door and moving inside. “She’s not one to sit aside and let her men fight for her. She’s much more likely to pick the sword up and fight for herself.”

Gerome snorted. “Yeah, you got a point. Well, alright. You get some sleep, Sparrow.”

She kicked her shoes off. “Goodnight, Uncle,” she said, going back to hug him. “Try to get some sleep okay?” she urged him gently. 

“Sure thing, kiddo.” He hugged her back, then moved out of the room. “See you tomorrow.”

Emily moved over to her personal terminal, pulling up the tracking data for Gerome. She let it run on its own as she changed out of her too-loose clothing into something more comfortable, sitting barefoot at her desk as she watched Gerome’s data move from her hall down to the Whaler’s personal kitchen. 

He was there long enough that she thought he might actually be cooking, until she pulled up the surveillance footage and found Gerome sitting on one of the stools, several empty bottles already around him.

Eventually he stumbled to his feet, leaving the bottles behind and she followed him through the halls until he got into the elevator to the throne room.

Emily turned off her terminal and slipped into the hall, moving on silent feet across the new carpeting and then Reached for the window. Through several minutes of climbing, using both her skills and her magic, Emily made it to the roof in time to see Gerome stumble into the throne room, leaving the front doors wide open as he went inside.

They’d closed off the Throne Room for repairs, and after dark there would be no one around except perhaps the Outsider. 

She Reached over to the doors, standing behind one, and turning on her void gaze. 

Corvo’s statue was where it always was, and Gerome was collapsed beside it and when Emily tilted her gaze up, she could see the Outsider’s blurry form standing in the rafters. Emily settled back against the wall, fully prepared to wait Gerome out and make sure he would return to his own flat safely. 

“Yer girl’s grown up strong,” Gerome slurred at the statue. “Must’a got it from her mum. You’re… you  _ were _ a fuckin’ wreck. She’s… she's a good kid. You’d’ve been proud of th’ woman she’s become.

“Me? I’m a fuckin’ wreck.” Gerome leaned against the base of Corvo’s statue and curled up. “Been drinkin’ to try to sleep without dreams. Get fuckin’ nightmares every fuckin’ night. Don’t work well, so I’ve been usin’ hypos. Turns out they don’ mix well with booze. Thom… Thom found out. Jus’... took the hypo from me an’ curled up at my back. Th’ only quiet sleep I ever got. Ain’t that pathetic, PB? I need a fuckin’ bedmate to get to sleep.”

Gerome sighed. It came out shaky. “I’m so fuckin’ tired, Corvo. I jus’... I jus’ wanna rest. I kill everythin’ I love. Th’ world’d be better off without some guttershit thug like me. I should’a never let you get close. Fuckin’ stupid of me.”

There was a thump as the Outsider hopped down from the rafters. “Burton,” he said, dropping his invisibility.

Gerome’s head lolled back to stare blearily at the android. “Oh, so now you show yer face.”

“Burton,” he said, his voice scrubbed of all emotion. “You are inebriated. You’re of no use to Emily like this.”

Gerome blinked slowly. “Fuck you,” he mumbled. “I c’n still fight.”

“Go to bed, Burton.”

Gerome tried to stand, but began to list over to one side. “Shit,” he mumbled.

The Outsider sighed, the first sign of emotion from him. “Fine, I’ll help you back.” He lifted Gerome like he was a child, carrying him from the room.

Emily Reached, getting out of the way and ducking behind the edge of the Tower’s building, watching the Outsider from the shadows. Taking her route back down the side of the building, Emily climbed through the window, landing on the Whalers floor. With Void Gaze, she could see the Outsider putting Gerome down in his flat, and Emily waited by the elevator, leaning against it. 

As soon as the Outsider left and locked Gerome’s door, Emily ambushed him. 

She Reached across the hall and stepped out of the Void and directly into his arms, holding him tightly. Emily tucked her face into his shoulder, one arm wrapped around his waist, the other around his neck. She just held on, fighting back tears. 

“Emily?” he said, standing stiffly. “What?”

She tightened her grip on him, despite knowing that he could easily pry her off if he wanted. “Just. Accept the hug, Step-Bot,” she murmured around the lump in her throat.

He wrapped his arms around her, awkwardly petting her back. “You were watching?”

“I was worried,” she admitted, crowding closer. “I knew he wasn’t sleeping, I’m not an idiot. I just… didn’t think it was this bad. I followed him up there.” She swallowed hard. “I don’t know what to  _ do _ .”

The Outsider shrugged. “Eventually, he’ll adapt.” Then he sighed. “I’m… sorry that I’ve been distant, Emily. I knew that 96 percent meant that there was still a chance of failure, but… I was so sure.”

“It’s not your fault,” Emily said, pulling back just enough to see him in the dark hallway. “It  _ isn’t _ . I believed you - I hoped - because he’s my father, and we all loved him, of course I was going to hope. But it’s not your fault that what Delilah did wasn’t reversible.” She blinked away her Void Gaze to be able to focus on the Outsider’s face. “Be distant, if you need to be. But don’t shut down, or shut us out. Corvo’s gone, but we’re still here. We can survive. Or adapt.”

A small twitch of the Outsider’s lips gave away the hint of a smile. “Adapting is something you humans have always been good at.”

“And you’re a program, you’re the  _ best _ at adapting,” Emily pointed out. “Uncle will deny it, but we’re here for you, Step-Bot. Whatever you need.”

“You humans,” he mumbled, finally relaxing and leaning into her. “Infecting me with the human emotion virus.”

“Just the Kaldwins and Attanos,” she said, leaning her chin on his shoulder. “And you wouldn’t have it any other way, don’t lie to me, it doesn’t work.” 

“No, I would not,” the Outsider said, brushing a brief kiss against her temple. “You should go back to bed, Emily. Your brainwaves are erratic.”

“ _ Your brainwaves are erratic _ ,” Emily muttered, but she pulled away. “Will you keep an eye on him?” she asked, more seriously, gesturing at Gerome’s door.

“Until he awakens,” the Outsider promised. “After that, I shall return to my post.”

Emily hesitated before pulling away. “I won’t tell you not to,” she said, “but is… it good for you, to be spending all your time with the statue?” 

The Outsider shrugged. “I spent eleven years in his mind. The least I can do is guard his grave.”

She flinched, and pulled away. “That’s... fair,” she murmured. “Just. Be careful, okay? I don’t want to lose you, too.”

The Outsider turned to leave. “I’m far more indestructible than you are,” he said. “I will still be here long after your descendants are dust.” With that, he rippled into invisibility and ran off.

She let him flee, turning instead to get into the elevator. Twice in an hour Emily watched the two most important people in her life start to implode and murmured, knowing that even if his Android form was long gone, that the Outsider still lived half in the Tower’s system; “... Night, dad.” 

It was mostly true now, anyway.

*

Emily left Daud and Gerome in the hall of the recovered Holger Square, stepping into Martin’s office. After about two months of constant repairs and help from the other isles, Dunwall was finally starting to look less like a war zone, and more like the place she’d come to remember. 

Holger Square was nearly unchanged, except for the few Overseers left. Once inside, Emily looked Martin over, grinning. “They suit you,” she said, nodding to his newly-operated-on eyes. The augments looked normal, except for the color of the iris. Dark blue on black instead of sclera, and they glowed faintly - much like the Outsider’s. “It’s good to see you well,” she added, stepping around the chairs to embrace him. 

Martin laughed. “What’s even better is that the Overseers are seeing them as a badge of honour from our battle with the witches,” he said. “My attempts to get Augments better rights is proceeding with ease.”

“Of course you’re using them to further your cause,” Emily said, amused. “I don’t know why I would have thought any differently.” 

“You know what they say,” Martin drawled. “Turn every disadvantage into an advantage. Everything is a weapon against your enemies.”

Making a noise of disgust, Emily dropped into one of the comfortable chairs in front of Martin’s desk. “Please no more politics,” she begged. “I came to see how you were, not to banter about the state of the Empire - which is, by the way,  _ ridiculous _ . My advantages are quickly running out.” 

“Then find more,” Martin said, leaning forward and lacing his fingers together on the desk. “You have an army of spies. Use every bit of blackmail they can dig up. Find out who supported Delilah, and then use that information against them.” He smiled, a sharp little smirk. “The common people would gut them if they knew. Delilah and the rest of Coven were very unkind to those who couldn’t defend themselves.”

Emily nodded, leaning her elbows on the other side of his desk. “Oh, my army of spies is doing admirably. The current problem is the Parliament and their insistence that I take a husband, or remove the statue of my father from my throne room - which is apparently, let me quote them,  _ demoralizing to the common people  _ \- or my personal favorite, that I’m still ‘too thin’.”

Teague’s lip curled. “Tell them you are grieving, and your mind is not on picking a consort. As for Corvo’s statue, leave that to me. I’ll make the loudest voices shut up. It’s your choice what to do.” He reached over the desk and caught her hand.

“But they are right about the last one. Emily, when did you last eat a proper meal?”

She sighed. “Last night I ate dinner with Alexi and a few of the others,” she said defensively. “There wasn’t a lot of food on the ship, and less when we were in Karnaca. If I eat too much now, I just feel sick. Anton and Piero are keeping an eye on me. I’m okay Teague, really.”

“Ask them for some high calorie drinks,” he advised. “They’ll get some meat on your bones.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “I’m hardly skin and bones, Teague,” she said. “But I’ll mention it to them during my next check in. I’m okay, or at least I’m getting there.” She squeezed his hand. “It’s been a rough few months.”

“Are you alright, though? Are you coping well? You can always come to me if you ever need to talk.”

She laughed, but it wasn’t a kind sound. “My AI is in mourning, my uncle and the closest thing I have left to a father can’t sleep unless he’s drinking, my friends and family are all over creation trying to sew together my empire, and every time I close my eyes all I can see is the twisted look on the face of my father, now immortalized forever in stone,” she said bitterly. “I am… less than ideal, at the moment.” 

Martin immediately slid out of his chair to wrap her in a hug. “Hang in there, Em. It’ll get better with time.”

She hugged him back briefly before pulling away. “You were close with him too. It’s… well, it’s not fine. It won’t be fine for a long time, but we’ll get there someday.” Emily sighed, looking down at their linked hands. “How about you Teague? How are you holding up?”

Martin laughed, a little bitterly. “It’s tough going, some nights, but I can recover. I’ve been through bad times before. This is just another bump in the road. I’m too Morlish to give up.”

That made Emily smile. “Oh, is that reserved for the Morlish? Seems unfair to the rest of us.”

Martin laughed. “You lot don’t have the liver for it,” he teased. “True Morlish stubbornness is fueled by whiskey, fighting, and then some more fighting. And then once the fighting is done, you bring out even more whiskey.”

“That explains a lot,” Emily said. “The Serkonan way is food, wine, food, some more wine, and then once the wine is gone, more food. Always upset Corvo that I didn’t develop much of a taste for wine.” 

“Psh,” he said, waving a hand. “Wine is for those who can’t stand a real drink.”

Emily smiled. “Well, if you ever get tired of fighting, and require extra whiskey, feel free to drop by the Tower. Whiskey is usually my drink of choice, we have plenty.” 

Martin grinned. “I’ll take you up on that, Em. Once all this is settled.”

“Of course,” she said. Eyes still on her gloved hands, Emily chewed her lip. “Is this office bugged?” she asked slowly. 

Martin snorted, returning to his seat. He reached under his desk and pressed something. “There, now they’re playing a looped conversation from a few years back. What’s on your mind, Em?”

Coming to a decision, Emily tugged her gloves off, keeping her hands below the desk. “My father - and Uncle, and AI - would probably kill me for this, but I’d rather you find out from me than accidentally.” She smiled a little. “Full disclosure and all that.” 

Martin closed his eyes. “You’re pregnant. Alright, I think I know how to spin this positively.”

“ _ No _ !” Emily shouted. “For fuck’s sake, why does everyone think I’m pregnant!?” 

Martin’s lips twitched, then he snorted and started laughing. “Oh, darlin’,” he said, his Morlish accent coming out in his mirth. “The look on your face.”

“I hate you,” she grumbled. “You and everyone else who keeps thinking that nonsense. Wyman isn’t even  _ here _ , who would have - never mind, don’t answer that, I don’t want to know who the prospective father might be.”

“You know how the courts gossip,” he said, still amused. “Thomas, for a while, was the popular bet. Daud as well, though I’m certain the reason that was short-lived was the man himself.”

Emily had to take a few deep breaths after that. “... Tell me no one ever said that to Daud. Ever.” 

Martin just grinned.

“Ugh,” Emily said, wrinkling her nose. “Hard pass on both of them. No thanks. And still, not pregnant, not even a little bit.” Finally, Emily just placed both hands, palms down, on Martin’s desk. “During my… absence to gather allies,” Emily said slowly, “I was… given a gift.” 

Martin looked down at her hand, and then frowned. “I’ve seen that mark before,” he said slowly.

Emily nodded. “I’m sure you have,” she said, and Reached across the room to land behind him. “Probably in your old archives,” she said, leaning against the wall.

“But the old archives deal with… Emily, what have you done?”

“I haven’t done anything,” Emily said, stepping away from the wall and leaning against his desk. “I picked up a rock and got given magic powers.” She clenched her fist, letting the Mark there flare a bright gold. “Technically you should be arresting me. But I’d rather you know because I told you, than find out later when someone else outs me.”

Martin caught her hand and covered it. “You cannot show this to anyone,” he said, urgently. “Emily, everyone associates magic with those insane witches. You cannot let anyone know you have it. The results could be disastrous for your reign.”

She covered his hand with her free one. “I know. It’s why I’m wearing gloves, and except for my cadre of spies, and immediate family, no one but you knows. Your control over the Overseers will be integral to my reign, Teague. I needed you to know and I promise, I won’t tell anyone else.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” he promised. “You have my support, Emily, and the support of all the men I have left.”

“Thanks, Teague.” She picked up her gloves and tugged them on. “The witches and I don’t seem to have much overlap at least,” she said. “What little I saw of them, in any case.”

“Well, you haven’t been dancing naked anywhere,” he said dryly. “And I have yet to see you mutilate any animals. Nor have you been rupturing organs with screams.”

Emily shook her head. “No, I can reach across areas. See in the dark - see people too, so no one using stealth mods can hide from me. My favorite is the ability to turn into smoke.” She grinned. “That one freaks out Uncle.”

“That… sounds incredibly unsettling,” Martin said, looking faintly disturbed. He peered at her. “Where does your mass go? Is it all smoke? Is the magic responsible for remembering to put each atom back in its proper place?”

Her grin widened. “Wanna see?”

“ _ Yes, _ ” Martin exclaimed eagerly. “I’ve always been fascinated by the unexplained.”

Emily reached out with her magic, dissolving into smoke and mist, crawling across the floor and pulling Martin out of his seat, before ending the spell and reforming. She crouched over him and grinned. “Ta da.”

Martin blinked rapidly a few times, his prosthetic eyes clicking and refocusing on her. “That was amazing,” he blurted, grinning like a child given a solstice present. He climbed back into his chair, watching her keenly. “Your arms are solid, but your main body is entirely unable to be picked up on sensors. Can you alter your size? Compress yourself? Fill a room? How long can you hold that form?”

Emily thought about it for a second. “I can compress myself,” she answered. “Fit into some vents back in Karnaca to get around a door. I can hold the form until my inner magic runs out, and depending on the strain of what I’m doing that can be anywhere from five seconds to five minutes, I guess.” She backed away from him and dissolved into smoke again, moving around the room aimlessly, before the strain started to pull at her and she reappeared, sitting cross-legged on top of his desk. “About five minutes, yeah,” she reported.

Martin watched her raptly. “What does it feel like?”

“It feels odd,” Emily said. “A bit like being myself, but also being everywhere. I’m completely aware of what I’m doing, so seeing my arms as these long shadow things, it took some getting used to. I’m stronger too, in that form - picked up two witches and knocked their heads together when we were getting to Delilah.” 

“That’s just… I don’t have words, Emily,” he said. “The kind of uses for that one ability alone are staggering.”

She nodded in agreement. “I can do a few other things,” she added. “Most of them require more than one person. I can make people do things - little things, nothing huge. I made a guard turn around and walk away from us. I can link people together so that whatever I do to one, the other feels. It’s… overwhelming, but  _ really cool _ .” She grinned, leaning back on her hands. “Everyone else acts like this is the worst thing, but come on. I have  _ magic _ .”

“I suppose I can see why the others would be cautious,” Martin said. “But you have  _ magic _ . This is just amazing!”

“Thank you,” she said. “It’s nice to have someone on my side for once. Sorry for knocking you down, by the way. It’s a side effect, anyone too close to the shadows gets pulled down to the floor.” 

“It’s fascinating,” he said, staring at her. “Perhaps an instinctive response?”

Emily thought about it. “Maybe,” she said. “The place from which the magic came is just trying to protect itself, and me - so that would make sense.” She hopped off the desk and went over the shelf unit. “Amongst other things, I was given charms to help - most of them do things I have no idea about, but…” She trailed off and picked up the shelf one handed, moving it three inches to the left and putting it back down. “It’s been an interesting few months.” 

Martin grinned. “You know you have to arm wrestle Calla now, right?”

She grinned back. “That’s what I said! Cal thinks using the charm is cheating though.”

Martin leaned against his desk. “I’ll start coming up with ideas to mitigate any damage that might happen if you get caught using your powers,” he said. “You might want to think up responses ahead of time to downplay them as well.”

She nodded. “Some of the powers can be explained away by Augments, and a few of the Whalers are registered augment medical experts - there’s also Slackjaw, who, despite his disreputable dealings, owes me several favours. I could call on them to testify or falsify any documents.”

“Good use of your contacts,” Martin said approvingly. “I’ll make a spy out of you yet.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “It only took you twelve years.” She checked her comm unit finding a message from Thom asking to meet with her after dinner. “I should head back,” she said. “Void only knows what Daud and Uncle have gotten up to outside.” 

“Alright,” he said, offering her a smile. “Be careful, and keep me updated, please.”

“Of course.” She nudged him with her knee. “Survivors have to stick together, right?” 

He nudged her back. “Always.”

She Reached off the desk, landing by the door. “I’ll be in touch, Teague. Let me know if you need anything.” As she slipped out the door, she felt something brush against her face, and Emily wiped it away, finding blood on her glove. 

She winced, reaching into her bag and pulling out an Addermire solution, drinking quickly. Wouldn’t do to let Gerome see the blood. 

*

After dinner, Emily sent Thomas a quick message, having him come up to her rooms instead of her office.  She changed into her sleepwear, curling up in the chair by her bookshelves and when Thomas knocked she called, “Come on in, Thom.”

Thomas entered, shutting the door gently behind him. “Emily,” he greeted. “I know you’re busy with matters of state, but this is important.”

She frowned at him. “Family comes first, brother,” she said. “What's wrong?”

“It’s about Burton,” he said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out several hypos. “I confiscated these from him. I’m… worried about him.” He took a deep breath. “I caught him injecting them while he was very drunk.”

Emily sat up straight, alarmed. “He  _ what _ ?”

“He was mixing alcohol and sedatives,” Thomas said, quietly. “I… I don’t think he’s actively trying to kill himself, but…”

Swallowing hard around a sudden lump in her throat, Emily shook her head. “No, he  _ can't. _ It had to have been a mistake.” 

Thomas bowed his head. “Emily. Little sister. You need to think about dismissing him from duty guarding you. He’s not well.”

“Thomas that will  _ kill him _ ,” Emily breathed. “It's probably his perceived duty to me that's keeping him alive right now. If I dismiss him, I might as well pull the trigger myself!”

“He needs help, Emily,” Thomas said, clenching his fist around the hypos. “Help that we can’t give. I’ve looked up several qualified therapists that might be able to help, but one of us needs to persuade him to go.”

She nodded. “The Outsider and I can work on him,” she agreed instantly. “I'll elevate Lex, she can take my father's place as Lord - Lady Protector and Uncle can step back down to being a Defender. That will. Give him some more free time.” She wrapped her arms around herself. 

Thomas put the hypos down on the desk and hugged her tightly. “I’m so sorry to spring this on you, little sister,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry you have to carry this.”

Emily clung to him, curling her fingers in his jacket. “What’s one more thing?” she wondered, voice strangled with yet more tears. “I’m glad you told me - I knew he wasn’t doing well, I… heard him, talking to C- the statue, he said he couldn’t sleep except for when you laid down next to him.” 

“We’ve been taking turns staying with him,” Thomas explained. “I’ve been watching him. Burton has suffered a lot of loss over his life, and we’re all worried. We’ll get him through this.”

“That’s why I can’t dismiss him, Thom,” she murmured. “I’ll talk to the Outsider in the morning - where is Uncle now?” 

“In bed,” he said. “He was falling asleep where he stood, so I carried him to his room.”

Emily nodded. “Good. I want a constant watch on him until I can get the paperwork for Alexi to become Lady Protector Mayhew, and get the Outsider to agree to help me convince Uncle to see a therapist or get some real medication instead of doing it himself.” She chewed on her lip for a second. “If he notices - he’ll notice - just, send him to me. Better he’s angry with me than with you.”

Thomas kissed the crown of her head. “Alright, little sister. We’ll take care of him. He’ll get through this.” He pulled away and went over to the door. “You need to get some sleep too, Emily. Promise to try?”

She made a face. “I do try. I have good nights and bad nights.” She sighed. “But I’m going to bed as soon as you leave, brother. Promise.” 

Thomas nodded and walked out of the room.

Emily spent another sleepless night tossing and turning in her room. Every time she started to fall asleep, another flash of her father’s twisted face shot through her, or the way it felt to cut through Delilah’s throat kept her on edge and anxious all night. 

She could remember every person she’d killed before Gerome had stopped her; kept seeing their faces whenever she got comfortable enough to sleep.

Delilah’s voice haunted her dreams when she did find rest, whispering insidious secrets into her head. Even gone, dead and locked in her terrifying painting world, she was still making Emily’s life hell.

When the sun rose, and Emily found herself no more rested than she had been before laying down, she climbed out of bed, and dressed for the day. She didn’t often use cosmetics - Wyman always told her she didn’t need them - but she smoothed nanite-infused concealer under her eyes, watching the color adopt her skin tone. 

It would at least hide the dark circles there for a few hours until she could get some rest - if she could ever get rest again.

A glance at the clock told her it was too early to see any of the Whalers at breakfast so Emily bypassed their family dining room entirely, taking the elevator to the Tower and heading toward the statue - the grave - of her father.

She didn’t immediately see the Outsider in the vicinity even with her magic, and Emily almost turned to go.

The sunlight glimmered off his out stretched hands and Emily looked around before slipping into the throne room. 

It was clean and silent, dappled with light and the smell of freshly-cut wood from the construction crew. Corvo stood, one arm outstretched face twisted in despair and anger, unchanging. 

She stared at him for long minutes before she turned away to look at the throne. “I am so  _ angry with you _ ,” she told the statue. “You left us, left  _ me _ . Again! Nothing is the same, nothing is right, I wasn’t supposed to be dealing with this so soon, and on the anniversary of Mother?  _ Why _ did you always have to be the hero, Father?” she asked, turning on him again.

“You could have left me here like this!” She wiped at her tears with an annoyed snarl. “Uncle would have survived, if he had you. The Outsider? He only ever cared about you anyway, until you left him too. No one wants me to rule the Isles, at least not the way I am. Uncle almost killed himself the other day, I can’t get Outsider to stay visible for longer than five minutes and  _ somehow  _ I’m supposed to convince everyone I know what the fuck I’m doing.”

“Let me tell you something,” she muttered. “I don’t know any damn thing.” She heaved a sigh that was more of a sob. “And I’m stuck here with you like this - dead, stone, cold, and forever a reminder of how, once again, I’ve lost my parent.” 

The tears welled up in her chest until she was standing in front of Corvo’s statue, crying hard enough that her lungs hurt, and all her careful preparations that morning were washed away by tears. “I hate you,” she told the statue, around broken sobs. “I hate you so much, how could you do this to me!” She shoved the statue, pushing all her magic-given strength into it.

Of course, the statue didn’t move. Emily collapsed against it, wrapping her arms around Corvo’s neck. “Daddy,  _ please _ ,” she whispered, her forehead pressed to his collarbone. 

There was a pregnant pause, then another, as the stone around Corvo finally began to break away. 

“ _ Dad!” _

 

_ *the end _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are! This one was a blast to write, and it was so great reading all of your comments!
> 
> But don't worry, we're not done yet! There's a few loose ends to tie up.


End file.
